


The Cursed Bracelet

by Nerd_Mom_Writer



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2020-10-24 08:30:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 29
Words: 91,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20702993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nerd_Mom_Writer/pseuds/Nerd_Mom_Writer
Summary: One year after the Battle of Hogwarts, Hermione finds a mysterious bracelet with a short note from Ron. Assuming Ron was the source, she puts the bracelet on and finds herself under a curse. Now Draco Malfoy is the only person she can talk to, and he wants nothing more than to be left alone.





	1. A Year Later

**Author's Note:**

> So, I started a new long fic in a new fandom. I hope you like it. If you're new to my writing, I'm a fan of taking ugly, impossible situations and transforming them into mostly wholesome redemption stories that remain fairly true to the original characters.
> 
> I finish my fics. This will not be abandoned. I'll update this weekly on Fridays.
> 
> The M rating is a precaution. I have no idea what will happen in that regard.

Hermione hated her impossibly frizzy hair. She hated how she needed over an hour to tame it into anything other than a wild mane. However, she hated the idea of not making Ron regret ignoring her more. It wasn't that they were fighting, exactly… but he also wasn't really keeping in touch even though they were dating. At least, she assumed they were still dating.

"Hermione, we're heading down for breakfast. Are you coming?" Ginny asked, popping her head into the Hogwarts lavatory. "Oh wow! You look gorgeous! Shame it's wasted on Ron."

Hermione scrunched her nose and looked to Ginny, who looked the same as always. Harry wrote her nearly every day and visited at least once a month. Hermione's shoulders sank. She envied Ginny's casual confidence. "He's your brother. Shouldn't you be rooting for him?"

Ginny snorted. "He's a git, and you're my friend. You deserve to be with someone who makes you feel happy, not someone who… well, writes so rarely you can't even greet him without trying to look your absolute best."

Hermione glared at Ginny. "There's nothing wrong with wanting to look nice."

Ginny offered her a wry smile. "And the right guy will think you're beautiful even at your worst. You taught me that, you know."

She gave Hermione a quick hug. "Don't spend all morning in here, k? Harry will want to see you too, even if Ron is being an idiot. The others will too. Everyone will be there, you know. One year anniversary of the big battle and all."

Hermione swallowed hard and nodded. Only a year had passed since the battle of Hogwarts, when Harry had saved them all from Voldemort… with help, of course. Even Narcissa Malfoy had helped in the final battle, which still confused Hermione to this day, much like her son's reluctance to identify them at Malfoy Manor when they had been caught.

Malfoy had returned to Hogwarts to repeat his 7th year, just like Hermione and several others had. He no longer went out of his way to torment her, but he also avoided her like the plague. This suited her just fine, but she did wonder about what he was going through.

The Daily Prophet said his father had avoided Azkaban so far by cooperating with the Ministry in selling out the other Death Eaters. Rumors said that Lucius would enter Azkaban shortly after Draco graduated from Hogwarts, a concession made to prevent the Malfoy household from lacking a face.

Hermione frowned and gave up on her hair. It was not as smooth as she wanted, but it would be enough. She had better things to do than spend all day hiding in a lavatory while ruminating on the Malfoy family to avoid thinking about her own troubles.

"Right," she said. She eyed herself one more time. The Gryffindor uniform didn't allow for much variation, but at least her hair was quite pretty. She wondered if she might put on some earrings or a necklace to help herself stand out. She didn't have much, but she did have a few things.

Hermione went into the dormitory she shared with the 7th year girls and considered her options. The other girls were gone, but they had loaned her jewelry and such before for going to Hogsmeade and other special events. Hermione bit her lip, considering whether she should borrow something without permission or let it go. She was sure they wouldn't mind, but the principle of the issue…

She sighed. After all the things she had done, including breaking into Gringotts, she still didn't feel comfortable taking something without permission that she didn't actually need.

Hermione slumped onto her bed, wondering if she was only dressing up to be dumped. The idea of Ron cutting things off with her felt preposterous… she was the smart one, the capable one, the one he had depended on for years, but…

"He hasn't written in a month," Hermione moaned, and her last letter to him had been to admonish him for not trusting the ministry's decision to retroactively put him through basic auror training… despite not doing the same for Harry. Harry was simply better at those sorts of things than Ron, after all, and they had both skipped their 7th year and the usual recruitment process… "I wasn't wrong," she muttered, but she knew that didn't matter to Ron. She frowned and sat back up. She would simply have to go downstairs as is.

Something metallic and musical skittered toward where her hand pressed on the bed. Hermione looked down with wide eyes to find a small chain-link bracelet with tiny metal bell balls resting against her hand. She flinched away, recalling the cursed necklace Katie Bell had received years back, but she had already touched it without feeling any ill effects.

"What are you?" she whispered. "Wingardium leviosa," she added, twirling her wand to lift the bracelet in the air without physically touching it again. The bracelet seemed innocent enough. It was pretty, and though Hermione didn't normally wear things that jingled, she rather liked the gentle tinkling noises the small metal bells made, and the chain design with the latch meant it could be easily adjusted for size. The corners of her mouth quirked up as she carefully rotated it with magic to hear more of the music. "Where did you come from?" she asked it. It didn't answer, which was at least a little reassuring. She had learned a powerful lesson second year through Ginny about objects that were sentient.

Hermione set the bracelet back down on her bed and looked around for any kind of note or other indication of…

There. A small slip of paper on the bed with very familiar handwriting on it. Hermione smiled as her heart melted at recognizing Ron's scrawl. "With love, Ron," Hermione read out loud. It was his usual signature, but the meaning was clear, he had somehow snuck the bracelet in to surprise her. It was just like him not to give it in person, too. "Oh, Ron," she said and slipped the bracelet on without further thought. He probably felt bad for not writing too.

Filled with fresh confidence, Hermione made her way out of the dormitory and into the Gryffindor common room. It was fairly empty, though some third years sat by the fire playing wizard's chess. Hermione waved at them to be friendly, but they didn't look up at her. Hermione shrugged and went out the Fat Lady's portrait to head down to the Great Hall.

The halls were emptier than usual, but there were odd groups of students chattering here and there. Hermione didn't know everyone at the school, having always stuck fairly close to Ron, Harry, and Ginny, but she was used to people knowing her and acknowledging her when they saw her. She wondered how they would react to her hair and smiled in anticipation of their shocked faces when she passed close by the first group.

They didn't react to her. In fact, Hermione suspected they didn't even see her. She frowned, feeling slightly put-off, but not too vain to get worked up over not being noticed. Perhaps, without her hair flying all over the place, they simply hadn't realized who she was.

However, when Hermione had passed by several other groups without drawing a single eye, even when intentionally shaking her wrist a bit more to make noise, she began to worry.

Therefore, it was almost a relief when she arrived at the double doors to the Great Hall at the exact same moment as Draco Malfoy, and he looked directly at her with astonishment in his eyes.

"Granger!?" he blurted out, his jaw a torn slant between shock and disgust as his eyes roamed her hair and face.

She raised both eyebrows, put her hands on her hips, and looked down at him despite being nearly half a foot shorter. "Malfoy. You're in the way of the doors."

He glanced at the doors, as if surprised, then frowned back at her before opening the door for them both and glaring at her as she passed through, as if angry for her for forcing him to use his manners. Hermione rolled her eyes. She would never understand that prejudiced twit.

Once inside, Hermione paused a moment to take in the festive theme of the Grand Hall. Muffled conversations hit her like a wall of noise from the combined students, staff, and visiting witches and wizards. The ceiling had been enchanted to be a montage to the Hogwarts students and staff who had lost their lives in the battle at Hogwarts. Hermione's eyes watered slightly as she found the faces of Colin Creevey and Lavender Brown in the mix.

Hermione saw Malfoy greet his parents off to the side. She was surprised to see that Draco greeted his mother far more warmly than his father. Then again, Narcissa Malfoy had never taken the mark and had saved Harry's life. She was probably far more likely to inspire warm feelings than her husband.

Hermione ignored the sharp pang of longing she felt for her own parents on seeing the scene and looked for the next best thing: Harry and the Weasleys. It took her some time to find them through the crowds, but she eventually spotted them up near the staff table speaking with Professor McGonagall while several cameras were flashing. Biting back a big grin, she began to weave her way across the crowded Great Hall.

"Excuse me, pardon me!" Hermione repeated many times as she ducked and dived between people. People were being uncommonly rude today, not bothering to make room for her at all, but she supposed it was only natural with all the fuss over the one year anniversary of the battle, and it was rather loud in the room. Still, Hermione felt like she was having to use every bit of her finesse to avoid bumping into people.

Then Neville stepped back suddenly into Hermione's way...

...and Hermione stumbled and fell straight through him.

Hermione hit the ground hard on the other side and gaped. She turned her head to see that Neville had not even noticed her fall. In fact, he was still standing in the same space her legs occupied… as if she were a ghost.

Hermione scrambled to her feet, but not before Professor Sprout walked straight through Hermione to greet Neville. A 5th year leaned back in her seat and into Hermione's abdomen while stretching. If Hermione had to guess, the girl's hands were somewhere in Hermione's chest cavity.

Hermione felt her heart racing and thought furiously. She was either dead, or she was under some sort of spell.

This morning, Ginny had interacted with her, then Hermione had put on the bracelet… Could Ron have given her a cursed bracelet? Then again, Draco Malfoy had greeted her just before entering the hall… still…

Hermione looked down at her wrist, and went to yank it off when she realized her body was still overlapped with several others nearby. She grimaced and ran for the nearest clear spot in the hall, ignoring that she was literally running through people. If she happened to hit someone in the process, she could at least let that person know what was going on.

She hit no one.

Once Hermione was clear, she reached down and tried to unfasten the bracelet, but the fastening mechanism appeared to be missing. She tried pulling the chain off, but when it got to her wrist, it burned the hand touching it. Hissing, Hermione pulled her hand back. So, there was something wrong with the bracelet. At least that reduced the likelihood she was dead, unless all clothing was stuck once dead. She groaned and leaned against the wall, then wondered what held her up to begin with. If she could go through people, why not walls?

Hermione started falling backwards, and she jumped back up quickly. Shuddering, she concluded that it was only her willpower keeping her from sinking through the floor. She had to talk to a ghost and see if this was death. After all, ghosts could see each other, right?

Hermione had no idea, to be honest.

She searched for Nearly Headless Nick in the crowd, but couldn't find him or the other common ghosts of Hogwarts. Groaning, she headed back to the doors to the Great Hall on her way to the library. As she pushed on the solid door, she recalled that Malfoy had greeted her on the way in.

After she had been cursed or killed or whatever this was.

"Malfoy," she whispered. She turned around and searched the Great Hall for his pale, white hair, but he and his parents were nowhere to be found.

But if he could see and hear her, maybe others could too? Maybe other Slytherins?

Hermione turned and faced the Great Hall once more, sucked in a deep breath, and screamed as loudly as she could.

No response, not even from the Slytherin table.

But screaming gave her an idea. If she could walk on the ground and open doors, then she should be able to write to the boys and explain her dilemma.

She almost turned around right there and marched back to write in pumpkin juice with her finger or whatever else was around, but the last thing Hogwarts needed were more mysterious messages on the walls. Pen on parchment would be far more sensible and discreet.

And if she found Draco Malfoy on the way, they could have a nice little chat about why he was the only one who could see and hear her.


	2. Frustration

Though Hogwarts was not made with incorporeal individuals in mind, Hermione had little trouble navigating the halls to the Fat Lady portrait. This, however, presented a challenge, given that the Fat Lady required a password to open the door and Hermione could not interact with her.

Frowning, Hermione thought back on her ability to fall into the wall and sighed. She would either have to wait for someone to come open the portrait for her, or she would need to go through the painting like a ghost might.

She did not relish the idea of walking through a painting. Still, there was no one around, and with so much excitement in the Great Hall, she could be waiting for some time if she just sat around.

Staring at the portrait, Hermione gently placed her hand against it. The Fat Lady stirred and peered down at where Hermione's hand was touching. "Peeves? Is that you? You know it's rude not to show yourself!"

"She can feel me!" Hermione smiled in triumph at having caught the attention of someone and experimentally switched to her finger to gently press writing into the painting. However, the second she thought of it, a pillow of air forced her hand back from the painting.

"What was that?" Hermione said to herself. The Fat Lady glared suspiciously at the spot Hermione had touched a moment before settling back into her seat. Hermione tried touching the painting with her finger again, hoping to communicate with the Fat Lady, but every time she tried, the air blocked her.

"I could touch it just a moment ago! Ugh!" Hermione kicked the wall on impulse, half expecting it to fall short, and instead stubbed her toes hard. She yelped and then fell to the ground to check her foot. Meanwhile, the Fat Lady's eyes went directly to where Hermione had kicked.

"Who's there? Is that Harry Potter with his invisibility cloak? I've heard about it now. It's not funny, you know, teasing me like this. I don't like it at all, and I will summon Professor McGonagall if you keep it up," the Fat Lady complained.

"It's just me! Hermione!" Hermione snapped at her, not that the Fat Lady heard her. Hermione slid her shoe and sock off the injured foot and inspected her toes. They were red, but otherwise seemed fine. Still, the redness concerned Hermione. If she could be injured in this state, how would she get help?

Hermione carefully pulled her shoe and sock back on and considered what she had learned.

No one could see or hear her except possibly Draco Malfoy

She could pass through people and walls

She could open doors and feel things

She couldn't write with her finger when she wanted to

She could be injured in this state

Hermione chewed her bottom lip. She probably wasn't dead, given that she could be injured. Furthermore, she was being magically prevented from communication, which made this far more likely a curse, which, again, pointed back to the new bracelet as the most likely culprit. The bracelet she couldn't take off…

That was another thing. She couldn't take off the bracelet. It had burned her when she tried, but she did easily remove her shoe and sock just now.

Hermione stood back up. As fascinating as this puzzle was, she really did need to discover if she could still write to her friends.

Focusing on only getting through the Fat Lady, and not communicating, Hermione faced the wall, squeezed her eyes shut, and walked forward. When she heard the sound change, she opened them again, finding herself back in the Gryffindor common room. "Not all that different from Platform Nine and Three Quarters, is it?" she muttered out loud. She was alone, not that she could talk to anyone anyway, so she headed directly for her dormitory.

Once inside, she opened her bag quickly and reached in to pull out a quill and some parchment. However, every item she intended to pick up was merely pushed out of the way, resulting in her bag spilling all over the floor. "Bollucks," she cursed, chasing her quill on the floor and finding her hand only pushed it further away.

Determined not to be outdone by a cursed bracelet, Hermione then examined the floor. If she couldn't write with her hand, what would happen if she tried writing with her feet? The floor was kept very clean, but there was a rug near the entrance that she could mark… At least in theory.

Hermione carefully stood on it and then swept with her foot to draw in the carpet. Her foot hit a pocket of air just before landing and threw her off-balance, tossing her to the ground, where she landed hard on her behind.

"Owww," she moaned, rubbing her sore bum. "So I can shove things, but I can't pick them up, and I can't touch any surface with the intention of writing." She leaned forward on her knees, trying to brainstorm how she might elude the curse. "Perhaps only my hands and feet are blocked?"

Hermione leaned down and tried to disturb the carpet with her elbow. The pillowy air pushed back. Flustered, she tried touching it with her tongue. Once again, she was pushed back.

Hermione slammed her hands down and growled, thankful that at least her fists were allowed to make contact. She supposed she could always go on a rampage, but that wouldn't help anyone determine that Hermione was behind them… or how to help her.

"Okay, so I can't write messages. I can't pick things up. Can I eat?" Hermione asked herself, suddenly realizing she still hadn't had breakfast. She looked down at her very solid-appearing, yet incorporeal self. "Do I need to eat like this?"

She didn't feel hungry, but that didn't necessarily mean she could skip meals. Thinking back on the assortment of food that had been at the breakfast tables in the Great Hall, Hermione felt her stomach rumble. Frowning, she felt for her pulse and realized it was still quite present. "Best get going. I don't fancy searching out meals in the kitchens instead."

Besides, she might find Malfoy in the Great Hall, and then they could have a little chat.

Hermione made her way back downstairs. She briefly considered dropping through the floors as a shortcut, but then recalled that she was as likely to get lost as save herself time. Hogwarts still held many mysteries. She took the way she knew.

The walk back was uneventful outside passing Percy Weasley talking to an uncharacteristically somber George Weasley. Hermione realized she could listen in without ever being spotted, but as that was quite rude, and she liked the Weasleys, she refrained.

The Great Hall was as chaotic as she had left it, and she was able to easily slip into an empty spot at the end of the Gryffindor table beside some food. She spotted Ron and Harry sitting at the other end of the table and sighed. She wanted to be with them, but not as a ghost who couldn't interact… Especially with how uncertain she was with Ron. She watched him smile and laugh with Harry and wink at a group of younger girls who were gathered nearby. Her spirits sank. No, she definitely didn't want to be near them this way.

Professor McGonagall called for their attention, and the room quieted. Hermione's stomach growled, so she picked up an apple and took a bite while watching.

"Attention! Attention, please!" McGonagall called as the last conversations fell quiet. "As you all know, today marks one year since the Battle at Hogwarts, in which Voldemort was defeated, and the second wizarding war ended."

Cheering erupted, and McGonagall patted the air in front of her, indicating that they calm down. Hermione realized she was eating an apple and took another bite as relief flooded her. She could eat in this state. She quickly grabbed a plate and piled food onto it, then poured herself some pumpkin juice from a pitcher on the table.

"Now, I do understand your excitement, but the Battle of Hogwarts was not without its casualties. We lost many… too many, both young and old, friend and enemy…" Her voice became grave, and her eyes watered as George Weasley stepped into the Great Hall. "Too many lives were lost to a war inspired by prejudice and hate. Today, as we celebrate the living and the end of the war, let us not forget those who should be here among us."

She raised her glass, and everyone lifted their glasses with her, including Hermione. As Hermione drank her pumpkin juice down, she noticed whispering to her left.

"Is that a ghost?" said a second year Gryffindor, a boy whose name was Jonathan or Jacob or… Something with a J. He was tiny with curly brown hair, freckles on pale skin, and dark brown eyes.

"Must be, Jeffrey. It was eating an apple during the speech!" said the boy next to him. His hair and eyes were pitch black, and his skin was a deep brown. "I saw the apple lift up, and then bites disappeared, just one at a time!"

"But Arun," Jeffrey said. "Nearly Headless Nick said ghosts can't eat."

Hermione froze. Could she wave her food at these boys? She went to lift up the apple again, and it rolled away from her. Frustrated, she banged her fists down on the table. The boys screamed at the sound, attracting the attention of a number of others. Hermione cringed as George Weasley slid right through her to sidle in next to the kid.

"What's got you?" George asked.

"There's a ghh-gh-ghost!" Arun announced, pointing to where Hermione sat.

George frowned and waved his hand directly through where Hermione sat. "Nope, no ghosts. They feel cold when you touch them, you know."

"Hey, I know you! You're one of the Weasley twins, aren't you!" Jeffrey announced.

George's entire posture sunk for a moment before he bounced back with false cheer. "Why yes, I am! I'm George Weasley, co-founder of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. Perhaps you've been to my shop?"

"Oh, have I! I love your store!" Jeffrey replied.

Hermione watched sadly as George went into his usual spiel on his store, engaging the boys with humor and finesse, and carefully avoiding the subject of his fallen brother. Hermione tried reaching out to his shoulder, but her hand went straight through. Sighing, she stood up and looked once more for Draco Malfoy, hoping that maybe he might be willing to communicate for her, as he seemed to be the only remaining option.

She wasn't certain he wouldn't help her, given that he seemed to genuinely regret his role as a Death Eater. He had taken to wearing long sleeves even on warm days, and she had several times seen him avoid the other children of Death Eaters who attended Hogwarts. She felt safe trusting they were no longer on opposite sides of a war, however…

It wasn't exactly like they got along before the war either.

Hermione groaned as her eyes yet again failed to spot Malfoy in the crowd. Not knowing what else to do, she left the Great Hall and began making her way down to the Slytherin dormitories. He would have to return there eventually.

She didn't know exactly how to approach him either. Though the repeated 7th year at Hogwarts had brought them together often out of necessity, he avoided her as much as possible. He still acted as if her very presence muddied up the room, even if he was less overt in hurling insults at her.

Hermione glanced down at the jingling bracelet on her wrist and wondered for a moment if Malfoy himself might have planted it. The signature from Ron could have been ripped from a letter, after all, and this bracelet, whatever it was, clearly held some very dark magic.

Still, she didn't think Malfoy was behind this, if only because he had not gloated in the least this morning when he ran into her.

"Well, I'll find out soon enough," Hermione said as she marched down into the depths of the castle. She smirked as she realized something. "I wonder if being able to talk to him also means I can still punch him."

With a smile on her face and a fresh spring to her step, Hermione made her way to the Slytherin common room.


	3. Confrontation

**Chapter 3: Confrontation**

Though Hermione knew where the entrance to the Slytherin common room was thanks to her prefect duties, she had never actually been inside it. However, the decision whether to wait inside or outside their common room was a simple one. The common room would have seats, and the outside certainly did not. Therefore, Hermione only hesitated a little before phasing her way into the common room itself.

Her first thought, upon seeing the common room, was that it was dark and gloomy. Her second thought, on realizing the windows showed the lake depths, was that it was beautiful. She barely paid attention to the myriad Slytherins present in the room with her beyond a quick scan to determine whether Malfoy was among them: He was not. Since no one could see her anyway, she took her time gazing at the lake. Her muggle upbringing had her questioning how the glass window panes could withstand the water pressure of a lake pushing against them. Her wizard education kept reminding her that magic existed, and therefore physics was rather irrelevant. Still, it was rather fascinating.

Thankfully, it was not very long before she heard Malfoy's voice in the room. She turned toward him and saw him glaring at her angrily. "What's SHE doing in HERE?" he asked loudly to the room and gesturing at Hermione. The other students looked to where Malfoy gestured and looked back at him in confusion.

"Draco, who are you talking about?" asked a 6th year Hermione had forgotten the name of but thought of as Snape Junior. The kid had long greasy black hair and was otherwise as pale as the full moon.

Draco sputtered, gesturing at Hermione again, and gave her an incredulous look. "They can't see you, can they?"

Hermione smiled in relief at finally having someone interact with her. Though it had probably not been more than an hour since she had discovered she was cut off from everyone else, she had felt incredibly isolated by the experience. "Only you can see and hear me," she confirmed.

Malfoy scanned the confusion in his fellow Slytherins' eyes and narrowed his own. He pressed his lips into a firm line, clenched his fists, and marched off into a dark hallway that had to lead to the dormitories.

"Wait, Malfoy!" Hermione said, chasing after him. She made it five steps into the darkness before she felt a hand grab her left shoulder, and she was roughly shoved into the wall. She felt something wooden prod her in the neck-a wand. "Malfoy?" she questioned.

His breath came hot against her ear as he spoke in a quiet hiss. "What's your game, Granger? Assuming you even are that swotty mudblood." Hermione swung up her fist to punch him, but he grabbed her wrist before she reached flesh, removing the wand from her neck in the process. She heard him snort. "Well, if you're not her, you're certainly part of her fanclub."

His tone carried venom, and Hermione wished that he could see his face to see exactly how angry he was. It only occurred to her then that she was alone in a dark hallway with someone who hated her, and he could hurt her without anyone ever finding out. "Why is it so dark in here?" she asked, hoping to calm him.

"It's not dark in… huh. Maybe it's because you're not Slytherin. Say, how did you get in, anyway?" he asked, suddenly curious, though his voice still carried an unspoken threat.

Hermione had walked in, and she wondered then why she hadn't tried phasing through Malfoy to escape the hand pinning her against the wall. Closing her eyes, she tried to slip through him the way she had slipped through walls and other people so far, but she found she was wholly firm. She tried again, only this time she aimed to fall through the wall behind her, but again, the wall remained hard behind her. "That's interesting," she muttered. Apparently Malfoy not only could see and hear her, but his touch could keep her from phasing through other things… at least, that's what she concluded based on the idea nothing else had changed. After a moment, she considered it was possible the curse did not allow her to fall through Slytherin rooms, but then why allow her in if that were the case?

Malfoy sighed. "You've got that look. What's going on, Granger? I assume you have some reason to harass me beyond pranking me, or you wouldn't have followed me down the hall, and I don't fancy having my housemates think I'm crazy talking to myself."

"I need your help," Hermione said firmly. He didn't respond, and she could almost imagine the incredulous expression on his face. She bit her lip, wondering how much she should tell him. Traditionally, they were enemies, but nothing he had done or said indicated he had been behind the curse that was on her now. Still, there was something very peculiar about trusting a Malfoy for any reason. "Will you help me?"

"Me!? You want ME to help YOU?" he asked. He stepped back, and she could feel his eyes on her in the darkness. "Why me?"

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and considered how well she knew Malfoy. Not well at all, actually, but there was that one time he held back. "Why didn't you tell your family who we were when we were captured and brought to your manor?"

She heard him groan and roll his neck. "Granger, don't think I care about you just because I didn't want to personally hear more schoolmates be tortured in my home. It was bad enough having Luna there."

"So you have a line," Hermione said eagerly. "A line you don't like to cross."

"Are you asking if I have my own morals, ethics, and standards? Yes, Granger. I'm not some heartless monster. Thought that would have been obvious enough when Potter told the whole world that I couldn't even manage to kill Dumbledore with my family's lives at stake. What about it?"

Hermione took a deep breath. "Well, will you help me?" She frowned, disturbed again that she couldn't see his face. "Is there some way to turn a light on or go somewhere where I can see you?"

"Scared, Granger? Thought Gryffindors were supposed to be brave." He laughed at her. "Who knew you were a cowardly little kitten."

"Malfoy."

"You're a witch, aren't you? Just use your wand," he said.

Hermione froze and reached for where she normally kept her wand on her person. It wasn't there, nor had she thought about it from the moment she had touched the bracelet until now. Was that part of the curse too? Where was her wand? Was she unable to cast magic like this?

"Wait, you went into the Slytherin dungeons without a wand!?" Malfoy said, catching onto her dilemma. "I thought you were the smart one." She could almost hear the frown as he shifted from mocking her to confusion. "But if you don't have your wand, how come…"

"I'm cursed," Hermione explained. She was sick of the chit-chat, and either Malfoy would help her or he wouldn't. However, he had calmed her fears that he might take advantage of her distress. "When I said only you could see and hear me, I meant it. It's not just the other Slytherins that can't see me… it's everyone."

"What are you talking about?" Malfoy said. "Why would I be able to… Wait, are you trying to suggest I cursed you?"

"No!" Hermione protested.

"Why not?"

"It's pretty obvious you're just as baffled as I am… then again…" Hermione frowned as she recalled that his parents had been at the school for breakfast. "Where are your parents?"

"No," Malfoy said. "I'm not entertaining this. My mother and father have been through enough."

He walked away, and Hermione quickly followed his footsteps. Eventually, Malfoy went through a door to a brightly lit area and slammed the door in her face. Hermione stopped outside a moment, took a deep breath, and phased through the door to find Malfoy in a private bedroom taking off his shoes. "I'm sorry, Malfoy, but I don't have anyone else."

Malfoy startled so badly he ended up halfway on the floor tangled in his robes. "Merlin, Granger! I shut the door! Locked it too, come to think of it." He pulled himself up as his eyes narrowed at her and dusted off his robes without taking his eyes off her. "How did you get in without a wand? Without my even hearing it?"

Hermione crossed her arms. "Cursed, like I said."

"Yea, but that doesn't explain…" his voice trailed off as she demonstrated that she could go through walls by shoving her arm through the space his door occupied. "That's some curse," he said, taking on an academic curiosity. He frowned and shook his head clear. "I'm still not getting involved. Leave before I throw you out."

"I'll just come back in," Hermione said, leaning back against the door.

"Not if I petrify you first," Malfoy threatened, pulling his wand out at her.

Hermione dropped her head. "Please, Draco?" she said, hoping that using his first name might startle him into being more considerate.

His eyebrows shot to the ceiling, but he lowered his wand. "You really are desperate, aren't you?"

Taking this as an invitation, she stepped away from the door and started into an explanation. "This is what I've learned so far… I'm almost certain it's tied to this bracelet on my wrist, which I received this morning along with a note from Ron. I assumed it was a gift, but the note could have been taken from one of the letters he had sent…" She trailed off for a moment as she recalled how few letters there had been, and that she and Ron were still on uncertain terms.

"Anyway, I put the bracelet on and came down for breakfast. We ran into each other at the door, and you acknowledged me, which is how I knew you could see and hear me. When I went in, I discovered that no one else could, and that I could phase through things and people."

"Phase through them?" he asked.

"Pass through them, like I did with your door. So I did some experiments, and I realized that while I can touch things generally, I can't move them with the intent to communicate. I also, apparently, lost my wand and did not think about it until you reminded me of it, so that may also be a component of the curse. I wondered if I had died, but I do still need to eat, drink, and so forth, so I'm not dead."

Malfoy listened to all of this with an air of morbid fascination. "But you can touch me, and I can hear you," he said.

"Right, which is why I came to you." Hermione took a deep breath and shoved away 8 years of teasing and torment from him as well as she could given the situation. "Draco, you're the only one who can tell the others what's happened to me."

Malfoy held up a hand for her to stop, and she did. "First off, Granger, don't call me Draco. You're creeping me out. Second off, if I show up with any kind of message regarding you, they're going to assume I had something to do with your current state. Now, I'd love to help you, but it's not worth the risk of being thrown in Azkaban myself. Now, will you please leave? I only came down here to get my quidditch robes on to do some flying with my father before lunch."

"I'm not done talking," Hermione said.

"Well that's fascinating, because I am," Malfoy retorted. "Get out."

Hermione almost told him to make her, but then she recalled he was her only hope for communicating with her friends. "Will you at least talk to me later? When do you come back?"

Malfoy drew his eyebrows together, then looked at her, and Hermione got the impression he had never quite looked at her properly before. It wasn't that he was staring at her body or anything weird, but that his eyes were focused on her own as if he were trying to look past the labels he had always put on her to see what was hidden underneath. Hermione tried hard to hold his gaze, uncomfortable as it was to maintain eye contact with Malfoy when they weren't fighting. He must not have been bothered by what he saw though, for a moment later, he nodded. "After lunch. I'll meet you in the common room and then lead you back here to talk so I don't have people questioning my sanity."

Hermione swallowed hard as she reminded herself that patience would be necessary if she wanted his help. "Thank you, Malfoy," she said.

Malfoy shuddered, as if he such pleasantries from her were physically uncomfortable to hear. "Just go, okay?"

Hermione nodded and left his room without another word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it! Please review! So sorry I forgot to actually post this ON Friday. I forget about Ao3 sometimes. Always feel free to send me a message if you're wondering where the next chapter is. I have chapters 4-6 ready, and I'm well into writing ch7. I'm pacing myself on posting so I don't feel guilty when bad times hit, which they do.
> 
> Anyway, I plan to stay far enough ahead that y'all can still get regular updates even if I need to take a few weeks off for real world stuff. When things are well, I can easily write several chapters a week. Much love to my cousin and best friend who acts as my beta for everything I write so I can get more done quickly. :)


	4. Missing

**Chapter 4 - Missing**

Finding the way back to the Slytherin common room in the dark hallway was tricky, but Hermione managed by feeling for the wall and then keeping a hand on it as she walked. She wondered that Malfoy had his own private room, but then, considering his role in the war and his family's wealth, perhaps it wasn't so surprising that he got his own accommodations. She frowned as she wondered how the children of Death Eaters were treated who couldn't afford their own rooms, or did Professor McGonagall arrange for them to be separated for their own safety?

She huffed, exhausted at the mess the war had wrecked on their families, then recalled that Malfoy was technically a Death Eater himself, and the only student Death Eater at Hogwarts. He was far more likely than his peers to be feared and/or targeted.

Well, whatever the case was, she couldn't argue that Malfoy's private room was probably for the best, even if she resented the idea that he could buy his way into special privileges, the same way he had bribed his way onto the Slytherin Quidditch team in second year.

Hermione made her way back out of the Slytherin dungeons and paused, wondering what to do until she could speak with Malfoy again after lunch. It was Sunday, so no classes were being missed. She normally studied or spent time with Ginny following breakfast on Saturdays. She didn't even know if she could study in her current state. Would she be denied books too?

Eager to find out, Hermione made her way to the library and found it mercifully empty outside Madam Pince, the librarian. Hermione paused as she saw Madam Pince, reflecting on how many times the woman had hushed students, and yet now Hermione could scream and dance around the library naked without Madam Pince ever knowing. Hermione smirked. She was not tempted to actually do it, of course, but still… it was freeing in a way to realize what she could get away with now.

She could get away with a lot. Biting her lips in excitement, Hermione headed straight for the restricted section of the library.

She had browsed here before, of course, using Harry's invisibility cloak and other myriad excuses, but never freely. It wasn't that she had anything in particular she was looking for, she had just never had this chance to fully explore the section. However, given her predicament, perhaps some targeted research was in order.

Hermione found the restricted book section for books on curses and scanned the titles, trying to determine which would be most relevant. Their titles were not nearly informative enough though, so she grumbled, grabbed the first three, and brought them to a reading table in the main part of the library to flip through.

She was in the middle of scanning the first book when she realized Madam Pince had walked over to her table and was staring with extreme consternation.

"Madam Pince, you can see me?" Hermione gasped. Madam Pince didn't respond, and after a moment, Hermione realized that Madam Pince was likely only seeing the books.

"Peeves, is that you?" Madam Pince asked in a slightly terrified voice.

Hermione rolled her eyes, annoyed that she was, again, being mistaken for one of the spirits haunting the castle, but then realized that maybe she could use the books themselves to communicate. She reached for a book and found her hand buffeted back, just like the other times she thought about communicating. Frustrated, she let out a loud growl, but Madam Pince took no note.

"I'll have to speak to Professor McGonagall about this, Peeves. You're not supposed to remove books from the Restricted section." Madam Pince flinched, then pulled her wand as if preparing to defend herself. Naturally, nothing happened, and that somehow seemed to horrify Madam Pince more. "Peeves would have thrown them at me by now," she muttered. Hermione watched as Madam Pince hurried off to the nearest portrait and began speaking urgently. Hermione followed, hoping to listen, but only caught the end of it. "...not Peeves. Honestly, had I not seen the pages moving, I would have thought Granger had left the pile mid-study. The books were piled just the way she always has them. Subject matter? I'll go check."

Hermione dodged Madam Pince on reflex as the thin woman hurried past her back to the table. Hermione followed her.

"Curses… from the restricted section? But why?" Madam Pince said. The woman wrinkled her forehead in thought, grabbed the books, and rushed back to the portrait. "The books were on curses. I have them here. I'm afraid to ask, but Professor McGonagall should check that Hermione is safe."

The portrait, a young boy with a rather rakish hat on, nodded and the boy disappeared off the side of the painting. Hermione watched as the boy continued to hop through paintings in the library to the rest of the castle.

"Thank you," Hermione said, facing Madam Pince. Hermione's eyes watered, and she sniffed. Though she had not been trying to tell Madam Pince what the matter was, the clever librarian had deduced the exact issue, and all because she was used to how Hermione studied.

Hermione went back to the book stacks, hoping to find a book on bracelets to give Madam Pince more hints, but this time, when she reached for the books, her hand was blocked. Hermione glared at the bracelet with its gentle bells. "Of course, because now I'm thinking about communicating. And why didn't I think to look for books on cursed jewelry in the first place?"

She sighed and walked back out to see Madam Pince handing the stack of books Hermione had been going through to a house elf who promptly disappeared with a small crack.

"Oh, where did he go?" she wondered out loud, not that she expected anyone to answer. She glanced back at the library, and realizing that she wouldn't be able to look at any more books while she hoped to communicate, she decided to go search the headmaster's office to see how Professor McGonagall was handling this. However, on the way there, she saw Professor McGonagall marching out the front of Hogwarts to the Quidditch fields with an angry expression.

"What now?" Hermione complained, recalling that Malfoy had been heading that way.

She quickly changed her direction to the Quidditch fields, going through the front door after determining that stepping through the exterior wall of Hogwarts might not land her where she wished. It would be folly to risk twisting her ankle from falling an extra foot just to save a short walk out a proper exit.

Unfortunately, being incorporeal did not make her faster or stronger, and Hermione was grossly out of shape, having little exercise this last year beyond that required to walk around the castle for her studies. The air was chilly, thankfully, so she did not feel too warm, but the jog itself soon made her sweaty, and she wondered if she could change into fresh clothes in this cursed state. Was she doomed to wear the same outfit until she was freed from the bracelet?

She made it out to the Quidditch pitch far behind Professor McGonagall, who appeared more used to having to make sudden dashes across the school, and found the Malfoy family in a stand-off with the Weasleys and Harry Potter. Everyone had their wands out, and Harry and Draco were facing each other.

"Expelliarmus!" Professor McGonagall shouted, waving her arm in a sweep that knocked the wands out of everyone present.

"He started it!" Draco whined and pointed to Harry. Draco caught eye of her and inhaled sharply for a moment before narrowing his eyes. He shook his head infinitesimally at her, warning her to back off. Hermione only raised an eyebrow and put her hands on her hips. Then she realized that Lucius Malfoy was looking at her too, and her eyes widened.

"You can see me too, can't you?" she asked Lucius. Lucius averted his eyes immediately, and Hermione glowered at him, thinking furiously about what this could mean. She saw Draco staring curiously at his father too and knew Draco was also aware.

"Professor McGonagall," Harry started, "Hermione's missing. Last anyone's seen of her was Ginny this morning before breakfast. I asked Malfoy about her, and he laughed at me."

Professor McGonagall frowned. "Heavens, Harry. Why would you think Mr. Malfoy would know where she is?"

"Because of the Marau-" Ron started, and Ginny and George elbowed him hard simultaneously from either side. "Oww, guys! I wasn't going to…" Ron blushed and started over. "We heard they've been seen together," Ron said. His face fell, and Hermione itched to give him a hug and reassure Ron that there was nothing between her and Malfoy, of all people.

Professor McGonagall stared hard at Ron. "Right. Well, I'm not sure what rumors you're thinking of, but Ms. Granger and Mr. Malfoy have barely interacted this past year."

"No, today! They were seen together today!" Harry persisted, holding his hands out palm-up.

Professor McGonagall held up her own hand for him to stop. "Would this be before or after Ginny saw her before breakfast? Because if it's after, then Ginny was not the last to see her."

"No, wait, I mean…"

"Mr. Potter, I understand your concern for your friend, but I am tired of having you and Mr. Weasley harass Mr. Malfoy for every little thing that goes wrong in the castle. If he laughed at you, it was probably because he found your insistence at his involvement ridiculous, as it is. Now, it is true that we are having some difficulty locating Hermione, but that is no reason to bother the Malfoys. This is going to be one of their last opportunities to be together for quite some time. Please respect that and find somewhere else to be if you can't leave them alone. If you would like to assist me in the search for Hermione, you're welcome to join me. Madam Pince found some evidence she may have been in the library, but… well, you better come with me. Perhaps you know some places she might be."

"Just show her the map, you dunce!" Hermione snapped quietly at Harry and Ron as they walked back to the castle, leaving her behind. She knew the map was how the two knew to go after Malfoy. They must have seen her visit him in the Slytherin dungeons earlier.

Recalling the Malfoys, she sighed and turned around to face them. She may as well discover why Lucius could see her too. Both Draco and Lucius stared at her, and she saw Lucius's eyes travel down her arm to the bracelet. Narcissa, however, just looked in confusion at her husband and tried to follow his gaze.

"What is it?" Narcissa asked. "What are you two looking at?"

"Nothing, just a bit of mud," Lucius answered, smirking before facing his wife. "This field is rather dirty, isn't it, Draco?"

"Lucius, you didn't! Hermione Granger..." Narcissa gasped. "If they ever find out…"

"It's just a tiny bit of revenge for the havoc her friends wrought on our future. Besides, what more can they do to me? I'm already destined for Azkaban after our little outing today, my love, and they'll never find out what happened to her. The curse is rather well-designed for making someone disappear. The only way they could uncover her is if Draco betrayed me to let the school know, and you'll never betray me, will you son?" Lucius asked.

Draco swallowed hard, studying his father with disappointment and grief before facing Hermione with cold eyes. "Sorry, Granger. Can't help you after all."

Hermione watched, horror-struck, as Draco followed his parents back to their brooms and took flight like they hadn't just condemned her to a life apart from everyone she loved.


	5. Distraught

**Chapter 5 - Distraught**

Hermione blinked away her tears and took deep, even breaths to try and quell the fury within her at the Malfoys. She felt foolish for not having suspected Lucius earlier, given the man had slipped Ginny the possessed diary among other crimes against Hogwarts students. She did not understand how Lucius managed to get access to Ron's note or her dormitory, but then again, he was not a man lacking in means. Perhaps he bribed someone to bring it to her. Hermione didn't question where he found the bracelet. Very likely it was one of the many dark objects stored away in the Malfoy Estate.

Narcissa's reaction was refreshing… the woman had clearly disapproved of what Lucius had done, and yet… she had shown no sign of trying to stop Lucius or save Hermione…

Just like Draco.

Hermione frowned. Draco's reaction had hurt, which surprised her. It wasn't even that his reaction to the situation surprised her. He had no reason to give her allegiance over his father, and there was a reason he wasn't in Gryffindor. He was not known for being brave. Even the Death Eaters made fun of his cowardice.

Still…

She had sought him out just that morning asking for his help, and while he hadn't been particularly interested in helping her…

Okay, so he was outright against helping her, if she were being honest…

But the fact that he hadn't just straight-up hexed her had given her hope. Perhaps more hope than she should have allowed, given who he was. Of course, he would be self-serving first. That's what Draco Malfoy did.

She still didn't have to like it.

Hermione narrowed her eyes.

She didn't have to accept it either. If Draco Malfoy was her only opportunity out of this besides Lucius Malfoy, who was obviously not an option, she would keep after Draco until she got him to help her or died trying.

Hermione gulped. She may well die trying, but… Draco never had murdered anyone before. Professor McGonagall had made sure of that before allowing him to repeat his 7th year. Hermione somehow doubted he would take that step now just to stop someone from annoying him. She smirked at the idea of meeting him again after lunch. She could just imagine the haughty, disgusted glare he would give her upon finding she hadn't given up on her goal of getting him to help her. The idea made her burst into a bright grin.

However, that had to wait until after he was done flying and eating lunch, which meant she needed to decide what to do next.

She could chase down her friends, but with the curse specifically preventing attempts at communication, she would probably be better off not knowing how her friends hoped to reach her. That way she would be more likely to leave hints for them to find, like she did with Madam Pince in the library.

So what could she do? Eat lunch, obviously. She was hungry. She suspected the curse would prevent her from sitting in her usual spot since if she thought at all about how her friends might connect the dots, and she made a quick decision to sit at the wrong table just so she would be allowed to eat.

But what after then? Most of her studies required her wand.

Where was her wand?

Hermione tried to focus on the thought, but it was slippery, almost as if the curse didn't want her to find it. Glaring in frustration, she pinched herself hard and then marched off to the castle, trying to keep all her thoughts on her wand. Her stomach growled, but she pushed her hunger aside.

"Wand, wand, wand, wand…" she muttered as she hurried through the castle. She slowed as she passed Professor McGonagall talking with Harry and the Weasleys near the main entrance, but then shook her head. "Wand. Have to find my wand."

She ran the rest of the way to the Gryffindor dorms, only stopping a few times to pause and catch her breath before continuing. She didn't even hesitate when she got to the Fat Lady painting. She just closed her eyes and ran through, then made her way up the stairs to where she shared a room with the 7th year girls. That was the last time she had seen her wand, and she saw no reason it wouldn't be there now. Inside, she found her bed and searched it quickly for her wand. This was where she had put on the bracelet, and she had her wand with her right before putting the bracelet on, so this should be where the wand went missing.

Her wand wasn't there.

Hermione looked all over her bedding and pulled it up when she didn't see her wand. When that still didn't produce results, she ducked down to check under her bed, but nothing was there either. It was clearly not on her nightstand. Biting her lip, she stood up and examined the floor carefully where she had been. "Where could it be?" she asked and collapsed on the bed and stared at the ceiling. Would Ginny or one of the others have picked it up for her? Or was the wand missing for some more nefarious reason related to her curse?

The door opened, and Hermione lazily looked over to see Professor McGonagall coming in with Ginny and Mrs. Weasley. The boys, it seemed, had been restricted from joining them.

"...have to find her, Minerva! She's like a…" Mrs. Weasley stopped mid-sentence, gasped, and pointed at Hermione. "Look!"

"You can see me?" Hermione asked hopefully, then realized that Mrs. Weasley was actually pointed at her bed, which sank under her weight.

They knew she was there from the impression on the bed!

...And Hermione got dumped on the floor as she realized this was a form of communication. "Oww," she muttered as she pulled herself back up. She had fallen on her shoulder and hip most, and though nothing felt very wrong, she suspected she would have some ugly bruises there soon.

"Was that Hermione?" Ginny asked, awe and a touch of panic in her voice. "What's happened to her? She left her wand too, and you know she never leaves her wand… not since the war, anyway."

Hermione frowned at Ginny, wondering where Ginny thought Hermione had left her wand, when she watched Ginny walk straight for Hermione's nightstand and pick up Hermione's wand from it as if producing the wand from thin air. Hermione's jaw dropped. She had checked the nightstand. She knew she had! And yet, she couldn't see the wand until Ginny had lifted it. She sighed. The curse must have hidden it from her.

Hermione leapt up and tried to take her wand from Ginny, knowing words were useless, but her hands passed right through both her wand and Ginny. Growling, she stomped the floor, a sound that drew the attention of all three other women.

Professor McGonagall put a hand to her chest and stepped into the room. "Miss Granger? Can you hear us? Your friends showed us a… map, of sorts, that showed your location in this room, and since we saw the bed move…"

Hermione sighed. "I'm here, Professor, not that you can hear me. What can I do…? If I think I'm communicating, the curse will stop me." She thought of how she had circumvented it by not focusing on communication, but simply getting something done. She looked down at her clothes, which were now damp with her sweat from running around Hogwarts and slightly smelly from her time outside. She would need to change eventually. Why not now?

Then again, she hadn't checked this yet, and she didn't want to get stuck half-undressed when Draco Malfoy was the only person she could speak to… He was likely to be reluctant enough as is. Showing up half-dressed would likely do little more than offend his pompous pureblood sensibilities.

"Right," she muttered. "Focus on changing clothes. Focus on changing clothes." She stared at her wardrobe, but Mrs. Weasley and Professor McGonagall were discussing the situation quietly while Ginny explored the room, and Hermione simply couldn't forget they were there. Hermione sighed. She couldn't do anything to hint her existence until she forgot they were there to communicate with.

"Professor, how can she be here and not here?" Ginny asked. "Is she dead?"

"Oh, Ginevra, I'm sure Hermione's not… I'm sure she's just…" Mrs. Weasley fell silent and looked to Professor McGonagall for help.

"I can't imagine harm would have come to her without anyone seeing. Furthermore, you heard for yourself that the Fat Lady had not seen Hermione leave this morning, which means that whatever happened, happened in Gryffindor Tower. There's also the matter that she can interact with her physical surroundings at times, apparently. To my knowledge, ghosts are not capable of such a feat. Then again… Hogwarts is a strange place."

"Wait, what's this?" Ginny said, leaning down on the floor to pick up a familiar sliver of paper. "With love, Ron? Why is this here? Hermione hasn't received a letter from Ron in ages…"

"Perhaps she received one this morning?" Mrs. Weasley suggested. "We better go ask Ronald if he knows anything about it."

The little group moved downstairs shortly after, and Hermione followed, not knowing what else to do. After all, Ginny still held her wand, which kept slipping from her mind if she didn't concentrate on it. It even looked blurry in Ginny's hand a time or two when Hermione looked away and glanced back.

Downstairs in the common room, Harry and Ron waited with Percy, George, and Mr. Weasley. The room was mercifully empty outside their little group, probably owing to the celebrations in the main hall and elsewhere at Hogwarts. "Found her wand," Ginny announced, holding it up. "And this note from Ron."

Ginny passed the note to Ron, who took it carefully and gaped at it with confusion. "This has got to be old. I haven't written her in…" he glanced around at the various reactions of intense interest and blushed. "It's been a while since I wrote."

"And why is that, Ronald? She's your girlfriend!" Mrs. Weasley fussed.

Ronald paled, looking crestfallen, and Harry sighed and stepped up. "Look, Hermione's missing. Can we just focus on finding her? Ginny, are there any other clues? The map says she's…" He picked it back up from where it had been sitting on a table between them, and stared at it. "She's here. She's right here with us."

If possible, Ron paled even more.

"Mione?" Ron whispered, looking around him. Hermione crossed her arms and glared at him, waiting for him to say more.

"We saw her upstairs," Ginny added. When all eyes turned sharply to her, she shrugged. "Well, sorta saw her. We could see where she was sitting on her bed… just an indent, really, but then it went away when we mentioned it, and then a little later, we heard a stomp on the floor, but that was it."

"If she can interact with the physical world, she's not a ghost," Percy commented.

"Yes, brother dearest, we already figured that out for ourselves," Ginny said, her voice dripping in sarcasm. "So she's not a ghost, and she's where the map says she is, and we get signs of her presence, but nothing more."

"Why isn't she telling us what's going on?" Harry said. "She's the clever one. Even if she can't speak, shouldn't she be writing or banging in morse code or something?"

"What's morse code?" Ron asked.

"An excellent question, little brother," George answered. "It's a language used by muggles to communicate through short and long sounds."

"How do you know that?" Ron asked his brother suspiciously.

"Fred and I researched converting it into a burping charm to communicate secretly during meal times… but that one didn't quite pan out. Calibration on the receptor end couldn't filter out random burping," George explained.

"Fascinating!" Mr. Weasley commented, though he quieted down quickly when Mrs. Weasley glared at him.

"Well this is interesting and all, but how does it help us locate the missing Miss Granger?" Percy asked. He adjusted his glasses on his nose and crossed his arms rather more tightly than necessary, surprising Hermione. She hadn't suspected he would be very affected by her absence. Perhaps the search was delaying something more important for him.

"I don't know!" Harry complained. "Hermione, I don't know if you can hear or see us, but we know you're here, and we're doing our best to help you. If at all possible, let us know what to do. Professor McGonagall?"

McGonagall sighed heavily. "You've said it, Mr. Potter. Perhaps we should monitor Miss Granger's things to see if they move or go missing?"

"What about her wand?" Ginny asked, holding it out. Hermione's eyes bugged. She had forgotten about her wand again already.

"Best we put it back with her other things. She came back once. She may come back again. Now that we know more, I can consult with previous headmasters to see if any of their students had ever gone… invisible like this. Mr. Potter, if I may?" Professor McGonagall asked, holding her hand towards the map. "Having this on hand will make tracking her much more handy."

Harry hesitated, glancing at George, but when George shrugged and nodded towards McGonagall, Harry sighed and handed it over. "I would like it back when you're done, if I may."

Professor McGonagall gave him a shrewd look. "Preparing for the next generation of troublemakers already, are we, Potter?"

Harry shrugged and grinned. "Something like that."

Professor McGonagall nodded. "You'll have your map back. Dare say I hope I retire before it finds its way back into the hands of a student here."

Professor McGonagall left the Gryffindor common room, and the Weasleys and Harry stared at each other awkwardly. Percy was the first to speak. "I still can't believe you lot all had access to a magical map of Hogwarts. No wonder I could never catch any of you."

George sniggered and clapped an arm around his brother's shoulders. "Well, it was a bit of fun. Want me to show you where Fred and I got off to all those years? You never explored the castle properly before, Percy."

"I wouldn't mind coming with you, if that's alright," Mr. Weasley said. "If Molly would like to come too, that is."

"It does sound like a bit of fun in this heartache… Oh Ronald, what will you do if we never get her back?"

Ron didn't answer, and the older Weasleys soon left together, leaving Hermione, Ron, and Harry alone in the common room.

"Do you think she's still here?" Ron whispered to Harry.

"It's not like her to leave that quickly. I expect she can hear you just fine if she is though, Ron," Harry said in an exasperated voice and scratched the back of his head.

"I should tell her now, shouldn't I?" Ron asked, petrified. "Since she's still here?"

A hard gleam entered Harry's eyes. "No, you really shouldn't," Harry said. "Hermione deserves better than to hear something like that in this way."

"But what if we don't get her back? And I don't think I can handle waiting, Harry… I mean, what if the next time I'm here, I have a new girlfriend, and Hermione finds out that way? Wouldn't that be worse?"

"Worse than dumping her when she's obviously stuck in some kind of dark curse?" Harry asked, then both faces sank as they realized what they had revealed. "Hermione, wait, I didn't mean… Look, Ron really does care about you."

"I do, Hermione, it's just that… Well, we're not good together like that, 'Mione. Err… I'm really, really sorry, Hermione."

Hermione faced them, frozen by their words. She had known it was likely coming. She had known this morning when getting ready… she had known when she learned the bracelet was cursed, and again when it was confirmed Lucius Malfoy had planted it, but she hadn't fully known.

A tear escaped her eye and rolled swiftly down her cheek, and then another fell, and another, and Hermione ran out of the room.


	6. Chance

**Chapter 6 - Chance**

Hermione wasn't sure how long she had wandered Hogwarts following her encounter with Harry and Ron, where she effectively got dumped by Ron. When she recovered from the initial shock, she found herself walking to the library, her favorite place in the Hogwarts castle to solve problems that were bothering, and claiming a table there, not that anyone would know she was there to avoid it.

Unfortunately, her relationship with Ron wasn't exactly something a book could solve. "Bugger," she muttered, finally accepting her new reality in a calmer light. Tears streamed down her cheeks, but her breathing was calming. She suspected that, had she not been cursed, she wouldn't be this upset, and she wasn't sure what to make of that. "At least no one can see me this way," she said out loud. It wasn't like Malfoy ever came to the library normally. The only time she ever saw him up here outside right before exams was during 6th year, and she learned later he had only come to research how to repair that broken vanishing cabinet.

She sighed in relief. She wouldn't run into Malfoy here.

"Mr. Malfoy, you know the restricted section is off-limits to students without permission!" Madam Pince hissed, pulling Malfoy out by the ear from the restricted stacks, despite the fact he towered over her. Hermione sank deeply into her chair, hoping to avoid being seen and wondering why he had to come here of all days.

"The book I was seeking is on temporary loan from my family's person library, Madam Pince. If you check the records, you will see that I not only have permission to borrow the book at will, but I also have the power to revoke access from Hogwarts for all three hundred books currently being held here from the Malfoy collection!" Malfoy hissed.

Madam Pince froze and released Malfoy immediately as all color drained from her face. "My apologies, Mr. Malfoy… I'm so used to… you see… you wouldn't really remove the books, would you?"

Malfoy took extra care to dust off his robes and raise a haughty eyebrow at Madam Pince from his full height to look down at her. "I might be persuaded to leave the books, but you must excuse me, and I would prefer you leave my name off the record."

Madam Pince nodded her head so fast she resembled a bobble-head car ornament on a bumpy road. "Yes, Mr. Malfoy! Of course, Mr. Malfoy! Not a word will be said or written!" She looked up at him with pleading, watery eyes and a too-wide desperate smile, clearly waiting for some sign that he approved of her response.

He shuddered with visible disgust and marched back to the restricted section without another word, leaving Madam Pince awkwardly trying to find some way to redeem herself. She quickly barked at some nearby students who had been watching but hadn't said anything and stomped back to her desk.

With wide eyes, Hermione slowly crawled out from the table she had essentially been hiding under and thought furiously. Should she try and see what Malfoy was up to? Could there be any good reason he was in the restricted section?

But it wasn't like Hermione could do anything about it with her current situation, and she was sure her face was blotchy from crying. She didn't think he could handle his teasing her about not even being good enough for Ron… or worse, celebrating that Ron had escaped associating himself with mud.

Fresh tears slipped down her face. She hadn't intentionally sought out a pureblood boyfriend in Ron, but she couldn't deny that his acceptance of her had helped make her feel more like she belonged.

Course, it wasn't just Ron, the entire Weasley family did that for her.

An odd raspy slithering noise distracted Hermione's thoughts, and she glanced down to see a small paper snake making its way towards her from the restricted section. She watched it climb up the table leg and then collapse back into a sheet of paper in front of her.

"Meet me in the restricted section," Hermione read. The ink disappeared a moment later, and Hermione was left staring at a blank page. She glanced up towards the restricted section. She couldn't see Malfoy from where she sat, but he had announced he was going there.

Hermione sighed and headed over. Ignoring him certainly wouldn't do her any favors in her current state.

She found him skimming through books on cursed jewelry and frowned. "You're helping me?" she asked. He didn't respond, and Hermione pursed her lips together in an angry pout. "Why did you call me over if you're not helping me?"

"I need to take a closer look at your bracelet, since that's apparently how Father cursed you," Malfoy responded.

Hermione gave him an incredulous look and turned on her heel to walk away.

"Petrificus totalus," Malfoy said in a quiet, tired voice, aiming his wand at her. Hermione froze like a statue mid-step and fell over into the aisle between the shelves due to her unbalanced position. "Huh, so spells do still work on you. Good to know."

Hermione couldn't speak, but she tried to glare at him. Unfortunately, since her eyebrows didn't cooperate, this mostly resulted in her staring awkwardly at him.

"Well, since you're listening," he continued quietly, "I may as well tell you that I'm trying to understand the curse better to determine what precautions I need to take. Father wouldn't speak more of it since Mother was clearly bothered by it… apparently she takes offense to seeking retaliation against you given that she made the choice to help you bloody lot." He fell quiet, and Hermione wondered if Malfoy actually wished Voldemort had won the war. He certainly sounded like it in that moment.

Malfoy sighed. "Regardless, I need more information, and since I didn't know to look closely at the bracelet earlier, I am now."

He stepped around Hermione carefully and crouched down beside her to stare at where her wrist was sticking out awkwardly in the air. They were close enough Hermione could feel his body heat and smell his sweat from playing Quidditch. He adjusted position to look more closely, and she was afforded an intimate view of his backside, from where his robe draped over his form to the bottom of his still slightly muddy shoes. Apparently he had not bothered changing again after flying. His thigh brushed her stomach, and Hermione looked away from him, embarrassed at being stuck in what felt like an intimate position with someone she openly disdained.

Still, Malfoy was careful. He didn't touch the bracelet directly, but she felt the wood of his wand slide between her wrist and the bracelet, carefully lifting it and causing it to jingle slightly before dropping it again.

"Well, I don't recognize it, but that's no surprise. Father kept lots of relics hidden away for when I was old enough. I'm bloody eighteen. You'd think that would be enough, but he wants me to graduate from Hogwarts too." He stood up and studied Hermione's frozen face just inches from his feet. "You're a lot more pleasant when you can't talk. All the more so knowing you can't just go blabber to your friends."

He stepped back around her and casually went back to browsing the shelves of books on cursed jewelry, scanning through each one quickly before putting it back while Hermione remained stuck on the floor. She was angry at being left like that, but she couldn't exactly do anything to change her circumstances, so she waited, trying to puzzle what to do with whatever Malfoy may learn as well as what Malfoy might do with what he learned.

Why did such an object exist anyway? What benefit was there to making someone invisible to everyone but oneself? Spying? Hermione supposed the curse would make her an excellent spy on all sorts of matters, and the curse would simultaneously prevent her from telling anyone what she learned except Malfoy… but to what end? Wouldn't the person cursed be able to feed false information and so forth?

"Ah! Here we are. This is the cursed bracelet of…" He stopped talking and grinned before glancing at her. "I expect you would like to know, wouldn't you? Well, I'll be checking this book out, and if you want any information on the curse, you'll have to play nice when I release you from being frozen."

Hermione really, really, REALLY wished she could glare at him while petrified.

"Finite incantatem," Malfoy said, waving his wand at her. Hermione's body sagged, and she pulled herself to her feet quickly, balling her fists at her sides. Malfoy took a look at her fury and grinned, but his grin faltered when he looked more closely at her face. "Have you been crying?"

Hermione paused, having temporarily forgotten that her mind had been elsewhere before she had seen Malfoy in the library. "Why would you care?"

Malfoy's mouth twitched into a frown on one side, and his eyes hardened. "Who says I do? However, seeing as I'm literally the only person you interact with in this school, I thought I should ask. Not completely heartless, remember?"

Hermione growled. "No, just a complete and total prat who attacked a defenseless witch and refuses to get her help when he's the only one who can save her!"

Malfoy raised an eyebrow at her. "You really shouldn't confuse me with your little band of Gryffindors. I'm not a hero, Hermione. I'm not interested in saving more than my own hide. Slytherin, remember? And while I might be persuaded to give you a hand if there was something in it for me, there's really nothing you have to offer, and I have a whole lot I could lose right now."

Hermione bit her lips. It was true she had nothing to offer, but… "Harry has money. He would reward you if I asked."

Malfoy's face popped in amusement, and he doubled over laughing. "Oh, Granger," he said, not forgetting to speak quietly, "There are things I could use, but money I've got plenty of."

"What, then?" Hermione asked.

Malfoy's face twisted with annoyance as he straightened up. "You're just going to keep bothering me if I try to leave you alone? I already told you that you can't get me anything I need."

Hermione crossed her arms. "Can't I at least try?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "If it gives me a minute's peace, I suppose. Not like you can tell anyone else, anyway. Father was quite clear on that point. Alright… well, I need Father's Azkaban sentence removed. I need my parents' relationship mended. I need to erase this bloody dark mark from my arm and undo the last 3 years of my life. I need a way to convince people who aren't tied to Death Eaters to treat me with something other than fear or disdain. Sound about enough?"

Hermione bit her bottom lip as she processed what he had said. She wished she could write things down still, but the curse would prevent that. "I can spy on people… learn who might be sympathetic to you," she said quietly.

Malfoy looked at her funny. "Aren't you supposed to be a major goody-two-shoes? Feels like every time I do something wrong I can hear your snobby voice prattling away about how I shouldn't do this or that. Should thank you for that, really. Picturing your furious face was a nice bonus."

"Are you interested or not?" Hermione asked, not interested in indulging a conversation about her personal ethics and rule-breaking. It seemed the wrong time to point out that, while his crimes were certainly of a darker nature, she very likely had committed far more many offences than he had in terms of sheer quantity, both at Hogwarts and away from Hogwarts. She doubted he ever kept a journalist caged in a jar.

Malfoy crossed his own arms back at her. "What makes you think I'll trust you to help me?" he asked her.

"Not like I can get out of this any other way, right?" she reminded him.

He frowned. "Why were you crying?" he asked her.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Want to find out? Share the book first," she said, glancing meaningfully at the volume he held at his side.

Malfoy eyebrows shot up as he broke into a grin and chuckled lightly. "You always were a fast learner." He rubbed the back of his neck, clearly thinking. "Well, have to admit this is more interesting than pretending you don't exist." He stared at her and took her in. "Tell you what: I'll give you a task. If you complete it, come to my room after, and we'll have a chat."

"What's the task?" Hermione asked him, fearful of what he might ask.

Malfoy looked up and tapped his chin in an exaggerated thinking pose. "Let's see… what could the good little swot do to amuse me?" He tapped his chin some more, then smirked at her. She did not like the gleam in his eyes. "A little prank for the celebrations tonight. Go into Filch's office, find the most explosive item in his box of confiscated items, and set it off during Potter's speech at dinner tonight."

Hermione held up a hand. "I won't do anything that puts other students in danger."

"Then make sure you set it off in a way that no one's hurt, Granger," he said, still grinning. "I look forward to seeing what you come up with! Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a book to read." He stepped around Hermione and left the restricted section.

Hermione ground her teeth together. She wasn't even certain the curse would allow her to do such a thing, but… she supposed she had to try. It wasn't like she had much of a choice at this point.


	7. Fireworks

**Chapter 7 - Fireworks**

Hermione learned several things of importance when she dug through Filch's office for explosive contraband that she could use safely that evening.

First off, Filch's normal confiscation box was full of rubbish. Fanged frisbees were not going to cut the requirements of Malfoy's challenge. The box dedicated to confiscated Weasley items, however, had several delightful options that she stowed away in a bag.

Her second discovery was that her bag fell under the curse too after she put it on, which she discovered as she accidentally walked straight through Professor McGonagall when leaving Filch's office.

Hermione's third discovery was that McGonagall was actively stalking Hermione around Hogwarts through the Marauder's Map and had a message for Hermione. More aurors would be coming to investigate her disappearance and why she kept appearing next to Draco Malfoy on the map.

While Hermione supposed they were all useful things to know after a fashion, her discoveries did little to ease her troubled spirits. If Malfoy was correct, the only one who could end her curse was his father, Lucius Malfoy. If that was true, the aurors were useless, and the map only served to let them know where she was. Furthermore, if their investigations led to Malfoy's arrest, Hermione would lose her one contact with the rest of the world. While the thought of Malfoy's arrest did not generally break her heart, given their sordid history and his very recent cruelty towards her in the library, she did not want to be stuck without anyone to interact with at all.

Hermione took a deep breath. Focusing on that depressing possibility would get her nowhere. However, she was rather intrigued by the puzzle that her bag had become part of the curse when she lifted it. That was fascinating, as were the possible implications.

Hermione mused as she faced the Great Hall for dinner with her shoulder bag full of confiscated materials. If she understood the curse correctly, it applied to everything on her person. Yet, it didn't apply to the apple she had eaten earlier while the first years watched. Regardless, she had some theories to test while she ate that night and waited for Harry's turn to speak.

Hermione walked to the Gryffindor table and took a deep, steadying breath. She loved research, and she would get to the bottom of the limitations of the curse. "I am eating here to show my friends I still exist," she said out loud, filling her head with the thought of communicating through her actions.

She sat down on the bench in an empty spot further away from the others and reached for some of the food. Her hand went right through it.

"As I expected," she muttered. Time to test her next theory. "Okay, now I am eating because I am hungry, and I barely ate all day so far. I need food to survive even in this form, and there is food in front of me, which I need to eat." She stared at it, trying to fill her head with thoughts of hunger only, and sighed. "This is preposterous. I need to eat!"

She shot her hand out before she could overthink it and grabbed a turkey leg firmly. "I did it!" she said in delight, staring at the turkey leg in her hand. "So I can counter the curse to be seen! I just have to focus hard enough on what I need to do instead of how I want to communicate." She reached for a glass of pumpkin juice, and her hand went right through it. She sighed. "Bit problematic for eating though."

Hermione stood up. She wouldn't normally eat while walking around, but she was starving and no one could see her anyway. She took a bite off the turkey leg and moved to the nearest group of Gryffindors, which included the same two young boys from this morning, to test whether they could see the turkey leg she was holding. She dangled her turkey leg in front of them as they chatted about their potions homework and ate. No reaction. Hermione tried moving the turkey leg closer to their eyes and accidentally brought it straight through the nearer boy's head.

"Well that answers that," Hermione said. "But they could see the apple I ate yesterday. Perhaps they saw me lift it? If that's the case, will the fireworks even work?"

Hermione pursed her lips. Whatever the case may be, she needed more than a turkey leg to eat after missing breakfast and lunch, and she would have trouble not thinking about communicating at the Gryffindor table. Hermione scanned her options and realized the choice was obvious. The only table she was not interested in reaching out for help at was the Slytherin table.

"Well, that's settled," she muttered with a roll of the eyes. She headed over to it, only hesitating when considering where to sit. After all, the emptiest part of the table was also where Malfoy currently sat alone, and she wasn't exactly feeling friendly towards him.

Then again, she needed to talk to him anyway.

Shrugging, Hermione finished the distance to slide into the seat directly next to Malfoy, figuring this way she wouldn't have to look at him, yet he should be able to speak to her quietly enough that he wouldn't draw the attention of his peers. Hermione grabbed a plate, set her turkey leg down, and began filling the plate with more food of her choosing. Next to her, Malfoy startled, then stared at her.

"What are you doing?" he hissed.

"Eating," Hermione said succinctly. She drank deeply from her pumpkin juice goblet and dug into her dinner.

"Yes, I can see that, but why are you eating here next to me?" he asked, his eyes wild as he scanned the others in the room, likely checking that no one was watching him.

"Oh, no reason, I just thought to myself that I might like sitting next to the biggest prat in the room," she said, already regretting her decision to sit next to him on some level. It was true he had the information she needed, but she might have considered a peaceful meal before dealing with him.

"I'm touched, Granger. If you're not careful, I might think you like me," Malfoy said with his usual drawl. He bit into his own food, chewed, and swallowed before speaking again in a more irritated manner. "Weren't you going to play nice with me for information?"

"I said I would help get you what you want. Being nice seems a bit too far. It's not like we've ever been anything other than enemies," Hermione said. Her heart stung with the reality that her only companion was someone who despised her. Then again, she despised him too. Glowering at her circumstances, she stabbed her food with more force than strictly necessary.

Malfoy chuckled darkly. "And yet you're stuck with me as your only companion. You may be begging for my attention before long."

Hermione shuddered. "Not interested in Stockholm syndrome, thank you very much." She no longer felt hungry, but she knew she needed to eat, so she took another bite anyway and forced herself to chew and swallow it.

"Stockholm syndrome? Is this one of those muggle things?" Malfoy asked.

"It's a muggle term for when a captive falls in love with her captor," Hermione explained. At Malfoy's dubious expression, she continued. "It's a fairly common phenomenon. Psychologists think that it happens subconsciously as a survival mechanism. You know, both because it's easier to imagine oneself happy when in love than when simply captive, and also because sometimes the captor is drawn to protect the captive more once an emotional attachment is established between them. It's really quite fascinating," she concluded, trying to distance herself from the possibility it might apply to her soon.

"Disturbing," Malfoy corrected. "The word you are looking for is disturbing."

"Well, yes, but I suppose it is a risk with the way things are," Hermione said, frowning. "Awareness can help prevent it though, I think…" It had to.

"I think I've lost my appetite," Malfoy said, shoving his food away. He did look paler than usual. "Granger, tell me you found what I asked for."

Hermione nodded and patted her shoulder bag. "I'm not certain anyone but you and me will see them though… it seems that objects I touch can also fall under the curse. I'm not sure when it stops, or if it stops at all."

"They'll see it," Malfoy said with certainty.

"How do you know?" Hermione asked.

He smirked at her. "I read the book, remember?"

Hermione frowned at him, but he was clearly not interested in giving her more information yet, so she focused on eating her food. She had just finished when Harry Potter himself dropped heavily onto the bench across the table from Draco and stared intently at Hermione's empty plate.

Hermione's lips parted in a small startled gasp. Malfoy swallowed hard next to her, and Hermione knew that Malfoy had realized there was no way Harry would not suspect Hermione was there.

"Malfoy," Harry said by way of greeting after a moment.

"Potter," Malfoy answered. He set his silverware down and crossed his arms on the table in front of him as he leaned forward slightly. "Shouldn't you be off practicing your speech about how great and wonderful you are?"

"You normally eat two plates of food for dinner?" Harry asked, ignoring Malfoy's taunt.

"So what if I do?" Malfoy answered. "Jealous? All you have to do is pull up a plate and eat. Plenty of food for everyone."

"Where is she, Malfoy?" Harry asked, his every muscle tense. "What did you do to her?"

Malfoy's eyes went wide in a practiced way, faking confusion. "Who could you possibly be talking about, Potter?"

"Don't play stupid, Malfoy. The map doesn't lie. I know Hermione was sitting here with you, and this was her plate. It has all her favorites on it!"

Malfoy's eyes narrowed considerably. "What map?" he asked carefully.

Harry winced, and Hermione knew he hadn't meant to reveal the map's existence. "What did you do to her? Why can't we see her?" Harry asked. Other students had noticed their confrontation by now, and Hermione could see that many of the nearby students were carefully pretending not to listen in, as it were, with forks frozen and conversation stopped.

"I barely escaped an Azkaban sentence already, Potter. Do you really think I'm so foolish as to go out of my way to harm your previous war heroine? Read. My. Lips. I have done nothing to keep you from seeing Granger. Whatever's happened to her is not my fault. I swear it on my magic."

"But you know something," Harry insisted, but his confidence had faltered with Malfoy's continued insistence that he was not to blame.

"I'm done here. Good luck with your speech, Potter. Seems I'll be missing it after all," Malfoy said, standing up abruptly to leave the table.

Harry yanked out his wand and aimed it at Malfoy, causing several students to cry in alarm. "You're not going anywhere, Malfoy!"

Malfoy froze and slowly tilted his head sideways and back to look Harry in the eye. "Are you seriously going to arrest me without evidence, Potter? Believe me. It's not a good move."

"She's been with you several times today. She ate dinner next to you tonight. You're involved, even if you're not to blame," Harry insisted.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow at Harry. "So you're going to arrest me because your best friend is stalking me? Have you ever considered that she might just like my arse?"

Harry's face went red with rage. He began to gesture with his wand when they heard McGonagall shout, "Expelliarmus!" Harry's wand went flying, and McGonagall huffed as she closed the distance to Harry. "You and I need to speak. In my office. Now. Mr. Malfoy, as headmaster of this school, I apologize for Mr. Potter's horrid behavior. It is true we are very concerned for Miss Granger, but this is no longer wartime, and we do not attack defenseless students for any reason, Mr. Potter!"

Malfoy hesitated a moment, as if slightly surprised by this turn in events, and bowed his head slightly to McGonagall. "My appreciation, Professor. I'll make sure to remember your kindness at the next board meeting for the school. Now, if I may be excused?"

"Of course, Mr. Malfoy," McGonagall said, not taking her glaring eyes off Harry, who was a mix of fury and embarrassment.

Hermione immediately followed Malfoy as he marched out of the Great Hall with his head held high. He stopped suddenly and sagged against the wall the second he was out of sight of the others. "Bloody hell," Malfoy groaned.

"Well, he wasn't wrong," Hermione chided. "You do know what happened to me."

Malfoy's eyes lifted up, as if just now realizing she was there, and glared at her before he grabbed her wrist with the bracelet and jerking at it to get her to walk with him in the direction of the Slytherin dungeons. "We need to talk."

Hermione yanked her wrist free, but kept up with his demanding pace, clutching her bag to her to prevent it from bouncing with each step. "Why not come clean with them? I can testify that you weren't the one who put the curse on me so you can avoid Azkaban."

Malfoy shook his head. "It's not enough. You don't understand how wizarding society works, Granger. I just barely managed to get the Malfoy name back on the board for Hogwarts by paying for the repairs to the castle, and that's with relinquished rights to participate until I graduate. I can't afford more stains on my name."

"So free me," Hermione said.

"Can't. Only Father can, since he's the one who set the curse. Course, even if I could, I wouldn't. I already told you I can't afford more stains on the Malfoy name," he growled.

"They're going to figure it out, Malfoy. They can already see me on the map," Hermione pointed out, knowing this much had already been revealed.

Malfoy froze in his steps, causing Hermione to bump into him. She scowled as she rubbed where her nose had impaled itself into his bony back. She really thought he would have had more muscles, given all the years he played Quidditch.

"The map. You know about it," he said, turning slowly to face her. His gaze was predatory, and Hermione took a step back. "Bring it to me."

"No!" Hermione said. "It's the only way they can find me. It's the only way anyone other than you can find me here."

Malfoy snorted and stepped closer. "Fat lot of good it will do them when you can't talk and they can't see you. I won't have McGonagall and the aurors breathing down my neck every time you follow me around. Bring me the map."

"I won't," Hermione said, and her back hit the wall of the corridor they stood in.

Malfoy leaned against the wall over her and loomed into her personal space so closely that she could feel his body heat through their clothes. She tried to dart away, but he grabbed her wrists and pinned them to the wall above her head, keeping her in place even as the little bells on her bracelet jingled above her and her bag with the explosives hung limp at her side. Hermione tried to kick him next, but as her leg lifted, she felt a pillow of air block her from hurting Malfoy. He smirked darkly at her failed attempt and leaned in even closer, so that his breath was hot against her ear.

"Listen carefully, Granger. Your little cursed bracelet is a nasty piece. It has no known countercurse other than removal by the person who gave it to you, which is my father, and the cursed victim cannot harm the Malfoy line while wearing the bracelet, which means you can't even fight back against me unless I allow it. The aurors can't help you. McGonagall can't help you. Your friends can't help you. The only person in this castle who can help you is me. Leaving this map out for them to know where you are does nothing more than cause me trouble, and the more trouble you cause me, the less likely I am to want to help you. Do you understand?"

Hermione bit her lip as she strained to create more distance between her and Malfoy. "I understand," she whispered after running it through her head. If he was being honest, he was right that the map might do more harm than good. However… "I'll bring you the map after you let me read the entry on the bracelet," she said.

Malfoy scoffed and stepped back, releasing her arms. "What? Why should I do that?"

"So I know you're not lying to me," Hermione said. "If the curse is really so infallible, then you can let me read it without risking harm to yourself."

Malfoy paused, then nodded. "There's really not much you can do with the information. Come on. The book's in my room." He turned and continued on down the corridor without another word.

Hermione frowned as she followed him. "How do you know I'll follow through on retrieving the map after I've read the book entry?"

Malfoy snorted. "Because you're smart, and even if you weren't, I could find other ways to get you to do what I want." His shoulders drooped. "Just so you know, don't get your hopes up. You're not going to like what you read," he said, grief making his voice thick.

Hermione swallowed her nervousness and followed him down to the Slytherin dungeons.


	8. Trapped

**Chapter 8 - Trapped**

Malfoy was right. Hermione did not like what she was reading as she paced his room near his dresser. She had read the entry on her cursed bracelet three times already, hoping she could find something to work with. She also was not ready to face Malfoy, who watched her from his bed with the kind of look that made her feel like a particularly interesting lab rat in an experiment.

"Are you done?" Malfoy asked when she made the mistake of glancing at him from where she stood. "Memorized it yet, Granger?" He was stretched back on his bed, still fully dressed except for his robe, which he had hung on a coat rack by the door. The bag of fireworks, abandoned in Hermione's haste to read about her curse, leaned against the coat rack on the floor. Dinner felt like a lifetime ago now.

"Shut it, Malfoy," Hermione snapped. "This can't be right! I must be missing something…"

Malfoy rolled his eyes, slipped off his bed, and stepped in front of Hermione. "You're not missing anything, Granger," he said, making eye contact with her. He carefully took the book from her, avoiding her hands, and shut it gently. "Look, Granger, you're not my favorite person. In fact, you're probably one of the people I like least in this castle, so don't take this the wrong way, but I do actually feel bad for you."

"Wouldn't wish this on your worst enemy?" Hermione asked with a sad smirk. She suspected she should feel insulted, but she found his honesty about his dislike reassuring… Her whole world may have changed, but at least Malfoy was still Malfoy.

Malfoy snorted. "Something like that." He took the book from her, tossed it on his bed, and stepped away so that his back was towards her. "You'll need my permission to find your wand and use magic. Bring me the map they use to track you, and I'll grant you that much. You still won't be able to communicate with anyone or harm me, but at least you can practice school work and live like a witch."

Hermione's eyes lit up and her heart burned with warm shock. "You won't make me work for my wand and magic?" she sputtered before covering her mouth. Really, she shouldn't be giving him ideas, but they both knew the book had been quite clear that only someone of the Malfoy line could grant her wand and use of magic back. Hermione had fully expected to have to battle for them while Malfoy lorded his power over her. He could do anything to her for his amusement in this situation, and no one would ever know.

Malfoy tilted his head back to sneer at her. "I am making you work for them. Map, remember? And before you think I'm being super-generous and nice, recall that I can take them away whenever I like. It just so happens that your having access to your magic benefits me just as much as it benefits you." He twisted his body sideways to face her more fully and scowled. "I thought you were smart, Granger! You're a swot by nature. Once your magic is back, your swotty self will be too busy doing swotty things to follow me around. It's not like I want you chained to me."

Hermione smiled sheepishly. He wasn't wrong, but she had also detected a rather un-Malfoy-like nervous gleam in his eyes when he had scowled at her. He might have very good selfish reasons for helping her, but she rather suspected he also wanted to make this as painless as possible for her. Of course, it was no more than she would have done if their situations were reversed, but… She still hadn't expected it from him, of all people.

"Thank you," Hermione said sincerely. Maybe it wouldn't be all bad if Malfoy didn't remain fully Malfoy.

Malfoy scratched the back of his neck. "Just get me the map, Granger. You're creeping me out with that smile. I thought you said you wouldn't fall for that Stockholm Syndrome mess if you were aware of it."

Hermione flustered. "I am NOT in love with you! I don't even like you. I was just thinking that it was nice of you to let me have my magic and wand back so easily."

"I'm not nice, Granger," Malfoy snarled with a warning in his tone.

Hermione rolled her eyes and clasped her hands behind her back. "Five years ago you would have found this hysterical, mocked me for days, and made me beg for my magic only to deny me it and laugh at me some more."

Malfoy raised both brows. "Five years ago I was a stuck-up, snobby little prat with no concept of how the world worked beyond my own self-importance. The war changed many things, Granger. It would not be wrong to say that I have grown up. I am tired of all the suffering."

Hermione gulped. Though those words made her inner 3rd year self cheer in delight, his final words were what rang to her core. "We have that in common."

"All of it? I'd like that on record, Granger," Malfoy mocked, but there was no malice, only weary acceptance. "Now get out before my exhaustion and this situation have me convinced you might actually be a decent person to know."

Hermione smiled, but it faltered quickly. She fiddled with the sleeve of her jumper. "Is there really no way out except through your father?"

Malfoy put his hands in his trouser pockets and shrugged. "You now know as much as I do. The description was quite explicit in that regard. I suppose you could always trot over to Azkaban and try to convince him to free you. His wand is confiscated, so he actually can't torture you for fun right now." The words were said lightly, but his eyes were dead as he spoke.

"I think I'll pass," Hermione said with another gulp. "Your father can revoke the permissions just like you, and it's not wand-based, so he could leave me trapped in Azkaban with no one to know but him and no way to get out."

Malfoy inhaled in a hiss. "On second thought, perhaps meeting my father in Azkaban is a bad idea." He rubbed his face with both hands and leaned against his bedpost. "I really don't want to be stuck with you, Granger." He dropped his hands and studied her eyes again. "If I can convince Father to free you, would you willingly submit to an obliviate so that you cannot incriminate us?"

Hermione flinched, and her jaw dropped slightly. She should answer yes, just to make her freedom more likely, but somehow, lying to Malfoy felt wrong, and she wasn't sure why. Was this part of the curse? Or was she just feeling guilty for already planning to betray someone who was willing to help free her? She swallowed and wished to take another look at the book, but Malfoy had already claimed it back. "I'll have to think on it," she said, hugging herself.

"He's in Azkaban anyway, Granger. It's not like he's escaping his war crimes. They only let him delay his sentence long enough to put his affairs in order and guarantee that I could step up soon to keep the Malfoy accounts managed, and that was only because he cooperated in identifying and tracking down the other death eaters."

"Would your father free me if you asked?" Hermione asked. She didn't really understand the Malfoy family dynamics, but what she had seen of it certainly didn't seem healthy.

Malfoy avoided her eyes, and that seemed answer enough.

"What happens if he dies before he releases me?" she asked, stepping forward slightly. The book's discussion of the curse indicated that Malfoy would be able to decide her fate then instead of his father, but it wasn't completely clear. Furthermore, Hermione didn't know what Malfoy would do.

His eyes hardened into two pieces of slate. He kicked off slightly from the bedpost and stalked slowly towards her, maintaining eye contact. Hermione's back bumped against his dresser, at which point she realized she had been backing up out of fear. He stopped when his face was inches from her own. His nose twisted in disgust, and his eyes narrowed further.

"Listen carefully, Granger. If my father dies, and I have ANY reason to suspect you, I will make your ghost-like existence a living hell, and you will NEVER be freed. Do you understand?"

Hermione's eyes watered, and she realized she had made a mistake already in placing any trust in Malfoy. She knew he wasn't her friend, but she had thought he might be her ally in this, given he disliked the circumstances… She was wrong.

"I understand," she whispered with her heart beating so loudly she felt it in her throat.

"Good. Now get out. I don't want to see your face again until you've got the map," Malfoy hissed. He flung open his door with a gesture and waved his arm towards it in a mockery of a bow.

Hermione fled into the darkness of Slytherin's dormitories before Malfoy changed his mind about their deal. The door slammed behind her so quickly she felt it hit her skirt. Wide-eyed, Hermione stumbled her way back to the Slytherin common room and back through Hogwarts towards her own dormitory.

She knew she and Malfoy disliked each other, but she had somehow hoped that their circumstances might change things at least a little, given that she had no one else now.

She was wrong. She was alone. She hated being alone.

Hermione sniffled and rubbed at her eyes. She hadn't truly been alone since before the troll attack during her first year. Even the times she had fought with the boys, she still had the support of her teachers and Ginny and Neville. Now…

The only person she could talk to was bloody Draco Malfoy, and he could barely tolerate her.

Her tears broke free as she climbed into her bed in the Gryffindor tower and pulled her covers over her head without even bothering to change first. What did it matter what she looked like or how she felt? No one who could see her cared.

Some part of her knew she should be working on getting the map so she could get her wand and magic back, but it would have to wait. Tonight was for crying.


	9. Tug

**Chapter 9 - Tug**

Hermione woke with swollen eyes, a mouth full of hair, and the smell of her sweaty, dirty clothes nearly overwhelming her. She felt awful. Excited chatting surrounded her. Groaning, she grabbed her pillow and shoved it over her head to block the noise out. There was an exclamation, and the voices grew louder.

Hermione reached for her wand to cast a quietus so she could go back to sleep, but while her hand found her nightstand, it did not find where she normally kept her wand. Confused, she sat upright to see if it had fallen on the floor. It was only when she saw McGonagall in the room with Ginny and their roommates that the events of yesterday flooded back to her.

She was under a curse set by Lucius Malfoy. No one could see her. The curse prevented her from communicating with anyone who wasn't of the Malfoy line, which meant that Draco Malfoy was the only person who she could talk to in the whole castle.

"Run along, girls. I want to speak with Miss Granger alone," McGonagall said. Ginny gave McGonagall a pleading look, and McGonagall sighed. "Yes, you may stay Miss Weasley." Everyone but Ginny, McGonagall, and Hermione filed out of the room. McGonagall cleared her throat as the door closed behind the others. "Miss Granger, can you hear us?"

"Yes, I can hear you, not that you can hear me," Hermione grumbled, pulling herself out from under the covers. She spied the Marauder's Map in McGonagall's hands and cringed. She needed the map to get Malfoy to let her use magic and her wand again. Should she try to take the map now? They would know she was its thief, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing… Grimacing, she reached forward and gently tugged at a free corner.

McGonagall froze immediately and stared down at the map. "Miss Granger? What is it?"

Hermione was vaguely surprised to discover the map didn't immediately slip through her fingers at McGonagall's awareness of it. Hermione tugged again, slightly more firmly, but not enough to tear it.

"You want me to give you the map? But why? You do realize that we won't be able to tell where you are without it, correct?"

Hermione did, and she hated taking that away from them to protect Malfoy of all people, but the fact that she could interact with others while fulfilling Malfoy's request was turning so many cogs that Hermione felt nothing but determined excitement.

"Come on, Professor, I know you can't hear me, but we can use this," Hermione said. Frowning, she wondered how far she could push this exception to the curse. It would let her tug on the map while someone else held it, but would it let her draw on the map with her finger? Hermione tried to impress on the map's surface with her free hand and was not at all surprised to see her finger go through it.

Hermione sighed. Tugging was apparently her communication limit. She tugged once, waited a few seconds, and then gave two quick tugs.

Professor McGonagall's eyes lit up. "I think she may be trying to communicate by tugging! Hermione, tug twice for yes and once for no. Can you hear me?"

"You figured it out, Professor," Hermione said with a dazed smile and tears of relief in her eyes. She tugged twice to answer yes.

"Can you speak?" McGonagall asked. One tug. "What about writing?" One tug. "Well, I'm glad you can at least pull on the map then. Perhaps we'll have to develop a system of communication from tugging."

Hermione's heart skipped a beat at the same time that Ginny's eyes lit with fire beside them. "Morse code!" both girls said in delight.

"Morse code," McGonagall echoed. "Why does that sound familiar?"

"It's some muggle thing where they communicate through short and long sounds. George just told me about it yesterday. He and Fred had studied it for one of their shop items… but there's no reason it couldn't be short and long tugs instead of short and long sounds! Hermione, give a long tug, then a short one, then another long one!"

Hermione did as requested, anticipation filling her as the curse did not prevent her from communicating in the form of tugging on the map. However, even as her excitement bubbled over, she felt dread slip in. What if she could never communicate like this again once she actually took the map?

"My word… it worked. Miss Weasley, go let Mr. Potter know we've found a way to communicate with her!"

Ginny nearly ran out of the dormitory, leaving Hermione alone with McGonagall. McGonagall sighed as the door closed behind Ginny. "Now that we're alone, I need to ask you some questions to determine how to address your situation. Have you discovered what's happened to you? We found your books in the library."

Two tugs for yes.

"Is it a curse as you suspected?"

Two tugs for yes.

"You've been seen in the company of Draco Malfoy several times since you disappeared. Was he the one who cursed you?"

Hermione hesitated for just a moment before tugging once for no.

"But he's involved somehow?"

Hermione took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. How should she answer that? He was involved, but not in cursing her. Would he be arrested if she answered yes? She shuddered as she recalled how coldly he had informed her of the details of her curse last night. She would like to see him arrested, and yet, she needed at least her wand back first.

"So that answer is unclear." McGonagall sighed. "Hermione," she said, shifting to first names. "You wouldn't follow Mr. Malfoy to his rooms without a good reason, which either means he coerced you somehow or he was someone who could help you. Did he coerce you to his rooms?"

One tug for no.

"Can he help you?"

Two tugs for yes. At the very least, she could get her magic back, assuming he kept his word. She frowned. She hadn't even questioned the possibility he wouldn't keep his word the night before, and she didn't know why. More ideas flowed into her mind. She very nearly had a plan ready to turn the tables on Malfoy.

McGonagall frowned, as if the knowledge that Malfoy could help Hermione disturbed her. "Do be careful, dear. The Malfoy men are powerful, but dangerous. He will not help you unless he's getting something of greater value for himself out of it."

Two tugs for yes. Hermione was well aware that Malfoy at least intended for Hermione to believe the same. Even so, she recalled how his voice had grown thick with grief for her and his later glance that showed his nervousness at being caught as something other than completely ruthless. Yet, he had been ice cold when explaining that she was powerless before him, and his threat when Hermione had mentioned the possibility of his father's death…

Hermione would be very careful. She was now certain that she could bypass the curse's taboo on communication when following Malfoy's orders, which meant she had a way to manage things very well indeed.

She just had to make sure that Malfoy didn't get the map, and she had an idea for that as well.

"Yes, of course, you always could handle yourself with him, but I do fear how the curse may have changed things." McGonagall's brow pinched together in heavy thought. "You're still using your bed?" Two tugs for yes. "And eating?" Two tugs for yes. "Will you be able to continue your studies?" Two tugs for yes. Hermione grinned fiercely. She knew what to do now.

"I'll leave your things alone then and return your wand to your bedside table. We weren't able to learn anything about what happened to you from your wand, after all."

Hermione gasped. Perhaps her wand could be another avenue for communication once she could use it again.

"You're not saying anything… of course, you can't, I suppose. Should I change anything?"

One tug for no.

"And you're sure Malfoy will help you?"

Two tugs for yes. Whether he wanted to or not, Hermione knew how to get his cooperation now.

She just needed the map.

Hermione firmly tugged at the map again and sustained it, hoping McGonagall would get the hint.

"You need the map now?"

Two tugs for yes.

"Will you be able to contact me again?"

Two tugs for yes.

McGonagall let out her heaviest sigh yet and released the map, which still had their figures marked on it. Hermione said, "Mischief managed," feeling it with every fiber of her being. The map went blank, and she folded it away into a pocket.

She was so excited by her plan she almost ran for Malfoy directly, but a glance down at her rumpled clothes from the day before corrected that. She threw open her wardrobe and pulled out clean clothes to change into.

"Fascinating," McGonagall uttered.

Hermione froze. She had forgotten how things must look to her professor.

"Oh no, don't stop on account of me. It's not like I can see you anyway. I just hadn't realized that objects could appear or disappear from your person when you're like this. The intricacies of this curse… it must be some very strange and powerful magic to make you like this."

Hermione smiled. McGonagall had always been one of her favorite teachers, and this moment just helped illustrate why.

"Thank you, Professor," Hermione said, though she was not really sure why. She continued on her business, soon leaving for the prefect bathroom. She was not a prefect that year. All the returning 8th years were relieved of such duties so they could spend extra time recovering from the war and catching up what they had missed in their 7th year. However, she knew where it was, and since she could walk through walls anyway…

"May as well enjoy a proper hot bath," Hermione mused as she walked there. It was a Monday, but classes hadn't started yet. Hermione figured she had time to relax a little before heading down for breakfast.

Half an hour later, a much fresher Hermione walked with a spring in her step down to the Great Hall, where she didn't even hesitate before going to sit next to Malfoy.

He did a double-take on seeing her, but said nothing as she filled her plate with food and began eating. She saw him glancing all around them out of the corner of her eye. Likely, he was checking to see if anyone was watching him. She hadn't seen Harry or any other aurors yet that morning though. Perhaps McGonagall had asked them to stay away after speaking with Hermione.

"I got the map," she said several bites into a danish.

He studied her with narrow eyes. "Hand it over, then."

"I think not," Hermione answered calmly. "And don't bother plotting to petrify me and search my person. It's not on me. I've hidden it."

Malfoy's brow lifted as if impressed. "I could force you to tell me where it is," he said.

Hermione snorted. "With what, the imperio? You're not that stupid. You know they'll be checking your wand."

His eyes narrowed. "I could use yours."

"They're checking mine too, Malfoy," Hermione pointed out. She smiled grimly and faced him. She rather suspected he wouldn't go through with it even if he thought he could get away with it, but she feared pointing this out might inspire more cruelty. Whatever Malfoy's true nature was, he clearly had no desire for her to think well of him. She swallowed. "I've been thinking. I have no way of knowing whether you'll let me keep my magic and wand once granted." She let the silence fill the gap as he worked out what she was getting at.

His eyes flashed silver when he caught on, and she knew she did not mistake the smirk in the corner of his mouth at her challenge. "So you'll keep the map from me as insurance that I don't take your magic and wand away."

"Exactly," Hermione said and took another bite of food, doing her best to pretend this was no big deal and her heart wasn't pounding like a drum. She never needed this sort of finesse when dealing with Ron and Harry.

Malfoy didn't even bother hiding his grin now. "Did the lioness wake up to find a snake in her reflection?"

Hermione's eyes widened. "That's another thing. I noticed this morning while getting ready that I have no reflection, and since I'm pretty sure the curse didn't make me a vampire…"

"Vampire? Of course not. What's that got to do with anything?" Malfoy asked.

Hermione slowly closed her eyes as she recalled that wizards, unlike muggles, knew very well that vampires had reflections just like anyone else. Of course, Malfoy wouldn't get a muggle reference. "My point is… why don't I have a reflection? And can it be corrected? Fixing my hair without mirror or magic is not something I look forward to everyday."

Malfoy snorted. "I expect not. Refresh my memory. How do I know you won't give the map back to McGonagall or the aurors after you get your wand and magic?"

"How do I know you won't take my magic and wand back after you get the map?" Hermione asked with a smug smile.

Malfoy tilted his head sideways in an infinitesimal nod of concession. "Okay. Keep the map hidden. I formally give you permission to reclaim your wand and use magic again in this form, provided they are not used to communicate with others."

The bells on the bracelet jingled slightly with Malfoy's pronouncement, and Hermione felt something tingle over her body. "Thank you." She could do magic again! But she had one more thing to settle before she searched for her wand. How to bring it up without arousing suspicion? She bit her lip.

"I'm afraid I'll regret asking, but what is it?" Malfoy asked.

Hermione smiled despite herself. Malfoy might be caustic, but he did care if her distress piqued his curiosity. "Were someone able to discover my hiding place for the map, I'd like to make sure I could pull the map free from them, but I don't know that the curse would let me expose myself that way. So far, whenever I think about how someone might see what I'm doing, the curse prevents it." Hermione, of course, left out the exception with tugging on the map.

Malfoy frowned. "So you just want permission to take the map even if it means exposing yourself?" He scowled. "I'm not letting you talk, Granger, but if you need to steal the map out of someone's hands or pocket or whatever, you may."

The bracelet's bells jingled again with the pronouncement, and Hermione did her best to look disappointed instead of relieved so he wouldn't catch on that he had given her exactly what she needed to keep communicating with Professor McGonagall and Ginny.

Silence followed for a minute, and then Malfoy cleared his throat and avoided her eyes. "I don't want to be your friend, Granger, for many reasons, and that Stockholm Syndrome thing you mentioned creeps me out. However, I know what it's like not to have anyone you can talk to."

He didn't quite say that she could go to him if she needed someone, but it was heavily implied, and Hermione felt strangely touched and sad for him. What had happened during the war to make Malfoy learn empathy?

"Thanks, Malfoy," Hermione said. She frowned. She didn't want to be friends with Malfoy either, but perhaps he was isolated even more than she was now, given that she could use morse code to talk to her friends by tugging on the map. In the meekest voice she could muster, she asked, "May I keep eating meals with you?"

He nearly jumped, his lips parted in shock, and his fists clenched and unclenched as he eyed her warily. Hermione did her best to look pathetic and pleading. She saw him squeeze his eyes shut in a grimace and sigh, finally leaving his fists unclenched. This decision must have cost him a lot. "Yes, you may keep eating meals with me." He paused. "Provided Potter doesn't keep crashing them."

Hermione smiled in genuine relief and went back to eating without another word. She and Malfoy may not want to be friends, but he definitely needed a friend, and getting closer to him couldn't hurt her chances of eventually getting free.


	10. Balance

**Chapter 10 - Balance**

Hermione practically ran up the flights of stairs to her bedroom after breakfast to reclaim her wand. She felt a glee similar to that of discovering she was a witch and the many times she solved problems for Harry and Ron, but with the added bonus of having snuck one over on Malfoy. She could communicate! She just had to get a book on morse code.. Surely the library had something, and if not, Ginny still knew about it and could help her out.

Hermione found her wand on her bedside table and snatched it up, hugging it tightly to her as she felt the thrill of being connected to it again. "Expecto patronum," she said as an experiment, and her otter patronus came out of the wand to greet her in its silvery form. She looked to the otter and got a new idea. "Tell McGonagall that I have my wand."

The otter took one step before Hermione's bracelet jingled with bells and the otter disappeared into nothing. Hermione frowned, tugging her bottom lip with her teeth. Well, it's not as if she had expected things to work that easily, and Malfoy had limited her magic use to that which didn't involve communication.

Still, she had her wand, which meant she could use magic, which meant she could attend classes and stay on top of her studies despite the curse.

Hermione glanced at the clock on the wall. She wouldn't have time to try and communicate with Ginny before Arithmancy, which was her first class that day, but Hermione had a wand, she had magic, and she could talk to at least Ginny and Professor McGonagall again. Hermione just had to make sure she didn't look so excited and happy that Malfoy got suspicious… and break the curse, of course, eventually.

Professor Vector barely batted a lash when Hermione sat down at her usual seat and pulled out her books. When another student pointed it out, Professor Vector merely informed the class that Miss Granger was suffering a curse in the same way one might describe a minor cold. This was accepted without further questioning, and Hermione felt rather relieved that her curse did not appear to interfere with her ability to participate in class… beyond not being able to ask questions, of course.

Hermione had a break between Arithmancy and Potions, so she went to the library to see if they had books on morse code. Madam Pince had apparently also been told not to be overly concerned at Hermione's invisible state. When Hermione started leafing through the library catalog by subject with her wand, Madam Pince quietly joined her and informed her in no uncertain terms that while Madam Pince might not be able to physically stop Hermione from going into the Restricted Section, it was still off-limits without special permission from a teacher. Hermione smiled, wondering if Madam Pince had any idea how many times Hermione had already frequented the Restricted Section without permission using Harry's invisibility cloak. She wouldn't need it that day. She strongly doubted that a muggle morse code would be inaccessible to regular students.

Unfortunately, the break was up before Hermione could find anything to help her. She headed to her next class while mulling over other ways to look up the book she needed.

Malfoy was in her potions class with Professor Slughorn, who had resumed the position following the war. As Hermione got her cauldron ready, Professor Slughorn watched with fascinated delight. "Well, well, Minerva did mention that you might join us today, Hermione. Of course, I'm not surprised that Hogwarts's brightest witch isn't letting something like a little curse get in the way of her studies."

Hermione looked up to see Malfoy's reaction. His eyes were narrowed, and he was scribbling furiously on a piece of paper. A minute later, a familiar paper snake made its way to her seat and settled into her lap before unfolding.

The note read the following: _How does McGonagall know that you're under a curse and still attending classes?_

Hermione swallowed. There really hadn't been a way to warn McGonagall earlier of the need to play dumb on the curse. Hermione frowned. She could point out the library books she had left out and some other details that would explain McGonagall's knowledge. Did Malfoy expect her to start talking during class to answer him? Thanks to the curse, she could speak all she wanted without anyone but Malfoy hearing, but it felt so… _wrong._

Hermione looked to Malfoy, who was carefully dicing his mandrake root several seats away. He glanced at her, saw her expression, and rolled his eyes. A moment later, he was scribbling on a new paper, and another spelled note snake slithered its way to her.

_Granger, if you write on the paper and tap it with your wand, the snake will return to me with your message._

Hermione blushed for not having realized the solution, even though she had no reason to know it. She took her quill out and began writing back to Malfoy.

_Malfoy,_ Hermione wrote. She paused, tapping the quill as she gathered her thoughts. Normally, she would just try to explain herself, but she wasn't sure that was the best thing to do with Malfoy. If she wrote about the library books, he would ask for more information, and the more she said, the more likely she was to slip up and reveal that she had communicated with McGonagall, if only by answering yes/no through tugging. Hermione chewed her bottom lip. If she were being honest with herself, she was sorely tempted not to answer him at all. They weren't friends, and she didn't owe him answers.

Still, Malfoy hadn't owed her an opportunity to get her wand and magic back either, and he had all but offered to be her confidant while cursed. It wasn't that she quite felt indebted to him, but she could see that he was trying far more than she ever expected him to, and outright ignoring him just because he asked a question felt rude now.

Hermione wasn't ready to be completely forthcoming though. She closed her eyes and sighed before writing. _Have you tried asking Professor McGonagall?_ Staring at it, she smirked at her audacity and realized she would have to write more to keep from having him be angry with her. She wrote. _I do know that Madam Pince correctly guessed that I was the one who collected books on curses from the Restricted Section yesterday. Beyond that, your guess is as good as mine._ Hermione read over it twice more before tapping it with her wand. She watched with fascination as she got an up-close view of the paper folding itself back into a snake and then winding its way down her desk.

Shaking her head to clear it, Hermione got back to work. After all, she still fully intended to take her NEWT exams on schedule, and they were only a few weeks away. She would just have to free herself of the curse first, somehow. Absently, she wondered if the curse would allow her to write to Lucius Malfoy, given that the curse's ban on communication certainly didn't stop her from writing to Draco Malfoy just now. She had taken notes without thinking in her first class as well.

Hermione bit her lip hard enough to hurt. She could not keep thinking down that path, if she did, she might not be able to keep taking notes, and then her studies would slide, and she would be no better off for it.

Besides, it's not like Lucius Malfoy would likely respond to anything she wrote. Even if Azkaban allowed him to receive and send the post, which was unlikely in itself, she doubted efforts to persuade him to release her would do more than entertain him.

She frowned. A very dark thought had just occurred to her… she could, at least in theory, get someone to imperius Lucius Malfoy into releasing her from the curse. After all, the bracelet could not be forced on a person. They had to put it on willingly, so it wasn't like Lucius could just curse her again.

However, to ask a friend to use an unspeakable curse… Well, Harry would do it without question, as would Ron. Hermione's heart hurt thinking of him, but she also knew him. Ron was an idiot in a lot of ways, but he came through for the important stuff… and surely, an exception to the law could be made when freeing someone from a curse?

But would it work? And what would happen if it failed and Draco Malfoy found out?

She swallowed hard. Malfoy's moral code had him treating her reasonably well for the circumstances… She suspected he rather felt guilty about having power over her, despite not budging where harm to his family was remotely possible. However, his family was a very firm, icy line. He would not forgive her if she brought harm to his father. He had promised her a living hell while cursed. She would lose her wand and magic without question, and who knew what Malfoy might come up with to torment her.

Hermione chewed her lip some more. She needed to read up more on the imperius curse to be certain it could be used to break the curse before mentioning it to anyone. For all she knew, the curse was somehow protected against the imperius. She frowned. Polyjuice potion would probably also be out, though it would be easier to experiment with. There was no reason not to try it, at any rate, assuming she could easily obtain a sample of Lucius Malfoy's hair.

Another note unfolded itself on her desk, and she looked down to see Malfoy's scrawl beneath hers: _Stay behind after class._

Hermione frowned. The whole idea of keeping the map from him had been to maintain some balance of power between them, and he was still demanding answers and ordering her around. She tapped the quill against her desk twice and wrote.

_Do not order me around, Malfoy. I'll see you at lunch as planned, but my time is my own unless you want McGonagall hounding you with the map again._ She paused, considering something that had been niggling at her the entire time they were exchanging. _What happens if someone else finds the note?_

She tapped the note with her wand, sending it back, and focused on her work again. She was behind on brewing the potion, and she hated being behind. Another snake soon traveled to her desk. She ignored it, but after a minute, it folded back into a snake and began bumping her arm with its paper nose.

Hermione sighed and picked up the paper snake, which immediately unfolded into a note again in her hand.

_The snake has a variation of the disillusionment charm cast on it that makes it virtually invisible to all but the caster, me, and its target, you. As a backup, the snake will also shred itself if picked up by someone other than us._

Hermione's brow pinched together as she realized he made no comment on her challenge to his orders. She did not know what to make of that, and she had nothing else to say to him, so she tapped the note without replying and went back to work on her potion.

When class wrapped up, Hermione made a point of getting out early and heading to her room instead of walking directly to the Great Hall for lunch. If the library had nothing on morse code, her next best bet for getting a copy of a morse code book would be through Ginny or McGonagall directly, and anything those two found would be delivered to her room.

No book waited for her, but Hermione did find a note from Ginny that Ginny had written George for more information on morse code and how to learn. Hermione smiled. Yesterday, nothing seemed to go right, but this morning she had learned how to communicate, gotten her wand back, and successfully restored the balance of power with Malfoy. Better yet, she had at least two ideas to research regarding breaking the curse: using the imperius curse on Lucius Malfoy to make him break the curse and polyjuicing an ally as Lucius Malfoy to break the curse that way. Of course, she didn't know that either would work, but it was a start.

In the meantime, she would eat meals with the younger Malfoy and see if she couldn't figure something out through him for getting free. Maybe if she managed to become good friends with Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy would free her just to get her away from his son. Hermione snorted. Assuming friendship with her former school bully was even possible, Lucius was far more likely to just have her meet an unfortunate death than free her.

Hermione sighed in frustration. She was far too stubborn to miss her NEWT exams because of a curse, and that meant she would simply have to break the curse quickly.

She just had to sort out how.


	11. Exposure

**Chapter 11 - Exposure**

As was usually the case, Malfoy was already seated and eating when Hermione found him at the Slytherin table in the Grand Hall for lunch. She slid onto the bench beside him, got her plate together with her usual favorites, and began eating without a word to him. She wasn't surprised when he didn't acknowledge her either. After all, she had refused to let him dictate her life by staying behind after Potions as he ordered. Still, they had agreed to eat meals together, so she was having lunch with him all the same.

He cleared his throat after the silence stretched out several minutes. "You're angry," he stated without looking at her.

"Yes," Hermione said, staring at her food.

"Because I asked you to stay after class," he stated in an annoyed tone, as if she were the one being ridiculous.

Hermione slammed down her silverware and twisted to face him. "You didn't ask me. You ordered." She couldn't believe he was implying she had overreacted.

"I made a request," Malfoy said, finally turning his head to sneer at her. "I didn't realize you required a cordial invitation for a quick chat. Shall I owl first next time?"

Hermione bristled even as self-doubt settled in. There had been nothing in that note to indicate anything other than her obedience, but this was Malfoy. Perhaps he simply didn't know how to ask nicely. Still, he was insufferable. "Well, a please would go a long way towards preventing any misunderstandings, if that's even what this is."

Malfoy faced Hermione fully. "What else would it be? Do you honestly think I would want to order you around? Have you already forgotten that I didn't ask for this either? That I don't want you bothering me? That I don't want to be responsible for you? Am I supposed to apologize for not changing my every mannerism to suit your insecurities? You sought me out, Granger. You asked for my help. You suggested we eat together, which I thought meant you might be interested in working together in other ways too, and then you blow up at me because I forgot my manners for a single request I made while I was busy with my own potion?"

He glared at her and let his words sink in. Hermione felt something like shame, but it was quickly forgotten when she heard a low whistle and clapping sound behind them. Hermione and Malfoy both jumped and turned to find Ginny Weasley standing there with raised eyebrows. "So, are you normally this oblivious to your surroundings, Malfoy? Or was today a special occasion? I mean, really, probably half the school heard you snapping at Hermione just now."

Hermione's heart soared as Ginny walked around the table casually and sat on the bench opposite them. Now that Ginny had mentioned it, Hermione could see other students whispering around them, her name mentioned regularly in their conversations.

Ginny leaned on one hand with her elbow on the table and stared at Malfoy, who was alternating in color between white and red so rapidly Hermione was mildly surprised he hadn't fainted. "So, Malfoy, Harry was right. You CAN see and talk to Hermione."

"Go away, Weaslette. I'm not interested in talking to you," Malfoy spat and returned to his food.

"Well, it's not like you're my favorite person either, Ferret, but Hermione is my best friend, so if you're the only person who can talk to her, I'm talking to you."

Malfoy scoffed. "Like hell you're not. I'm leaving," he said and got up without another word or glance at either Hermione or Ginny. Hermione stared at him in shock for a moment when she realized Ginny had gotten up and stomped after him. That could only lead to disaster. Hermione winced, got up, and followed.

"Oh Malfoy, I'm not leaving you alone until you tell me what you know, so you may as well get used to me," Ginny said. "Do you really miss my Bat Bogey Hex that much?" she asked sweetly as they passed back out through the doors of the Great Hall.

Malfoy froze and turned on Ginny. "Seriously? You think the Bat Bogey Hex can really scare me after the war? The Dark Lord was living in my manor! I got tortured when my father and I failed his missions! So yea, go ahead, Bat Bogey me if you like, but I'm not talking to you about Granger."

Hermione frowned. She hadn't realized that Malfoy had also been tortured in the war, even if for completely different reasons. Perhaps that was part of how he developed a new moral code, though she hoped there was more to it than just his finally learning what being a victim felt like.

"We'll see about that!" Ginny said. Ginny pulled her wand out and began the long incantation for the Bat Bogey Hex.

Hermione looked to see how Malfoy would defend himself when she realized he wasn't going to. He was just standing there cringing with his eyes closed. Hermione's jaw dropped, and she hurriedly pulled out her own wand and aimed it at Ginny. "Expelliarmus!" Hermione shouted, relying on the tried and true spell for ending a duel.

Ginny yelped as her wand went flying, and she stared wide-eyed at Malfoy, who stared wide-eyed at Hermione. "You protected me," he said. His eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"That can't be!" Ginny protested. "Hermione wouldn't protect you! Would she? You're tricking me!" Ginny wordlessly summoned her wand back to her and aimed it again at Malfoy, though her eyes darted around, trying to discover his trick.

Malfoy held both hands up. "Wand's in my pocket. It wasn't me."

"Bollocks. Are you saying you never learned any wandless magic?" Ginny asked.

Malfoy sighed. "Hermione, do something with your wand to show Ginny it was you, would you? I'd rather not get credited with your actions." He raised a brow at Hermione, and she understood what he wasn't saying: Don't do more than necessary.

Hermione sighed and thought about it. "Would my patronus be alright?" she asked him, knowing full-well that Ginny couldn't hear her.

"You can cast a patronus?" Malfoy said, clearly shocked. He forced a chuckle and a smug expression on his face, placing his hands on his hips. "Guess I shouldn't be surprised. You're the biggest swot in our year. What does it look like? A bookworm?"

"Would you like to see it then?" Hermione asked him, ignoring his teasing.

"Go on. Show me your patronus so Ginny can see you're casting spells here," Malfoy said.

Hermione shrugged. "Expecto Patronum!" she whispered, and her silver otter came out of her wand and bounded to Ginny, who sank to her knees at the sight of it.

"Hermione?" Ginny said, her voice cracking. "You really are here? This hasn't been some elaborate trick by Malfoy?"

"It's really me," Hermione said, though Ginny couldn't hear her. Malfoy was staring at her patronus so intently she rather feared trying anything like communicating actual words through it. "Can I talk to her? Tell her it's me?" she finally asked Malfoy.

"Absolutely not," Malfoy said, answering both girls' questions at once. "So, now you know. Can you leave me alone now?"

"But what's wrong with her? Why can't she talk to me? Why can't I see her? Why can you see and talk to her? What's going on, Malfoy? Harry thinks you've cursed her, and I thought the same earlier, but then…" Ginny trailed off, and Hermione's nerves tensed as she realized Ginny might allude to her communication with McGonagall, and Hermione had no way to warn her. "I just don't understand," Ginny finished. "Hermione, why him? Why help him?"

"It's not my job to explain things to you, Weaslette. Now bugger off. Find someone else to annoy," Malfoy said.

Ginny glared at him, then faced Hermione's otter patronus. "Hermione, talk to me. What's going on?"

Malfoy shook his head slightly in the negative, giving Hermione a sharp look. Hermione sighed and said, "Finite Incantatem."

Hermione's patronus dispersed, and Ginny cried out in dismay. "What happened? Why did her patronus leave?"

Malfoy crossed his arms and shrugged at Ginny. "She doesn't want to talk to someone who would attack her only companion, Weaslette."

"That's complete bollocks! Hermione wouldn't say that!" Ginny shouted at the same time that Hermione stepped forward and attempted to punch Malfoy. Her fist bounced off an invisible barrier before ever reaching him, but he still flinched and stumbled backwards. "Ha! She tried to punch you just now, didn't she?"

Malfoy glared at both of them and stomped off towards the dungeons. Ginny started to follow him, but Hermione pulled out her wand, muttered, "Locomotor mortis," and cast a quick cushioning charm as ropes sprung out and tied Ginny's legs together, forcing her to fall mid-step. "Sorry, Ginny," Hermione said. No good would come of letting Ginny continue to bother Malfoy like this.

"Hermione!?" Ginny exclaimed before casting a quick Finite Incantatem on herself and getting back up. "What are you doing? I know you cast that. Malfoy would never bother with a cushioning charm on me when I was falling, but why would you stop me? You don't want me to follow him? Don't you want me to help you stop him?"

Malfoy paused mid-step and pivoted to study Hermione, dubious confusion written across his face. "Why did you stop her, Hermione?"

Hermione sighed, bit her bottom lip, and looked away. She wasn't entirely certain herself, except… "It didn't seem right, letting her bother you when you're not even defending yourself."

Malfoy's nostrils flared, and his eyes narrowed. His shoulders tensed, and he clenched his fists. "I do NOT need your pity, Granger," he hissed, then turned back around and went deeper into the castle.

Ginny made an incredulous face. "You feel sorry for the Ferret, Hermione? Seriously? Have you forgotten all the years he tormented you?"

Hermione ignored her and ran after Malfoy. She had not forgotten all the years Malfoy bullied her, but there were more important things. She had questions, and she needed to know what Malfoy would do now that he had outed his connection with her to Ginny and half of Hogwarts in the Great Hall. "Malfoy, wait! Slow down!" Hermione said as she caught up to him in a stone corridor close to the dungeons. He walked too quickly for her to keep up with him without jogging.

"Go away, Granger!" he snapped without slowing down. "I don't want you around right now."

"Don't we need to talk about this?" Hermione asked as she jogged alongside him. "Ginny's going to tell McGonagall that you can talk and interact with me. She might even figure out you can limit my magic, since I couldn't produce my patronus until you encouraged it. How do you think that's going to look? They're going to come after you, Malfoy. You're going to need my help."

Malfoy paused, tensed every muscle in his body, and punched the stone wall beside them so hard his knuckles bled as he pulled them away. He panted with anger and stared blankly at his new injury.

"Oh, Malfoy," Hermione sighed. When Malfoy made no move to heal himself, she took out her wand, held his injured hand firmly but gently, and said, "Episkey." Malfoy's knuckles healed right up, and she looked at his hand, still in hers. She took a deep breath and sighed. Malfoy wasn't likely to consider working with her on this if she didn't let some of her own pride go, and she needed him to work with her to get free.

He was her best chance.

"Malfoy, listen… You were right. I overreacted earlier to your request to stay behind after class, and I can't deny that talking together at meals may not be for the best. Maybe I should have listened to your request… I'm…" Hermione paused and cringed at the thought of what she was about to say, then she let it go. "I'm sorry," she said.

Malfoy's eyes opened wide as saucers, and Hermione got the distinct impression he was not used to hearing those words aimed at him. The tension in his shoulders faded, and his hand went limp in her own until his eyes fell upon how they were holding hands. He startled and ripped his hand from hers. "Thanks for healing me," he said once his hand was free, then shoved his hands in his pockets and slumped slightly, averting his eyes. His nose wrinkled, and he sucked in his own bottom lip, much like a child might who was worried. He looked vulnerable, and Hermione's heart went out to him. Malfoy might be the biggest prat she'd ever met, but he was scared and trapped.

"Let's go to your room, and we can talk about how to handle things there, okay? And why you won't defend yourself against Ginny. I mean, you're a perfectly capable wizard. I've seen you fight before. I know you're reasonably intelligent… at least as smart as Ron and Harry, anyway. Why not protect yourself?" Hermione asked, her curiosity getting away with her.

Malfoy started walking again, but more slowly this time. Hermione still had to hop every few steps to keep up, but it was mostly manageable. "Did you forget I'm technically on probation? It's too risky to engage in duels. I'm too likely to land in Azkaban for it."

"You weren't afraid of Azkaban when you hexed me," Hermione reminded him. "In the library," she added, in case he had somehow forgotten how he had left her immobile on the floor just to examined the cursed bracelet just the day before. He had taunted her with the book on it too. Strange to think they were working together now in any context.

"Yes, but it's not Petrificus Totalus that would land me in Azkaban. You don't get it, Granger. I was forced to learn and use some very nasty dark curses as a Death Eater. It's easy enough not to use them when I'm calm, but if I were in a duel and lost focus…" Malfoy paused. "It's not worth the risk of being thrown into Azkaban just to avoid being hexed."

Hermione fell silent as she realized that Malfoy had likely gone the last year at Hogwarts without defending himself, despite being generally hated by both sides of the war. She hadn't really considered how tricky Malfoy's situation was. "How many times?" she asked.

"What?"

"How many times have you gotten hexed when you weren't defending yourself?" Hermione asked.

Malfoy glared at her, the pain in his eyes raw and bleeding, though his voice remained deceptively cool. "It's none of your business, Granger. I shouldn't have said anything. Do you mother everyone you know like this? Small wonder Potter and Weasley are so pathetic."

"There's nothing wrong with trying to look out for other people, Malfoy," Hermione replied. She was fully aware that he was lashing out since she struck a nerve, but she was unable to ignore the hurt from his suggestion that her friendship made her friends worse. "Imagine how much worse they would be if they hadn't had me?" she retorted, trying to inject some levity to soothe the hurt she felt.

"They would be dead," Malfoy said, fully serious. Hermione tilted her head to the side, surprised at his response. He scoffed. "Don't look so shocked, Granger, you can't be that modest."

"Harry and Ron are perfectly capable wizards without me!" Hermione said, offended that he thought so little of them.

"I had classes with them too, Granger. They're okay, but they wouldn't have survived half the stuff they faced without your brains behind them," Malfoy said.

They reached the dungeons now, and Malfoy paused to say the password before holding the door open for Hermione and following her in. The common room had several people in it, and Malfoy stopped speaking until they were in the pitch-black hallway leading to Malfoy's room, at which point Hermione followed his voice in the darkness. "All three of you may have been hunted by the Dark Lord, but no one really cared about finding Weasley beyond how it might lead to you and Potter. Potter, of course, was hunted for his role in the prophecy. You, on the other hand, were hunted because everyone knew you were the real brains behind Potter's success."

A door opened in the darkness before Hermione, and she saw Malfoy holding the door open for her. Odd that he would, now that she thought about it. Then again, he was effectively a wizard aristocrat. Perhaps his manners were simply drilled into him so deeply he didn't think about it when he wasn't actively trying to antagonize her. Hermione took a deep breath and entered the light of his room, muttering, "Thanks," as she passed Malfoy on the way in. Malfoy shut the door behind her, then took off and hung his school robes. The room hadn't changed since Hermione was last in it. Even the bag of fireworks was still on the floor by the coat rack, clearly forgotten in the chaos of everything else going on. Hermione wondered if her exploration of Filch's office would ever be put to use.

Malfoy rolled his neck and stretched his arms above and backwards in the comfort of his room, resulting in several light pops before he relaxed again. "Really, do you think Potter would have lasted two weeks without you when you lot were running around on your own in the woods? You can hang your robe too, if you like," he said, gesturing to an empty hook.

"Oh, err, thanks," Hermione said, following his suggestion. Though the dungeons themselves were cold, Malfoy clearly had some kind of warming charm on his room. Her robes had felt stuffy on entering, and she breathed better now that they were off. When Malfoy raised both eyebrows at her, she realized his question about Harry hadn't been entirely rhetorical. "I suppose Harry would've had a bit of trouble alone," she admitted, thinking of the locket horcrux she and Harry had taken turns wearing.

Malfoy snorted, but did not contest her response. "So what's the plan?" Malfoy asked, sitting on the side of his bed. Hermione frowned. "What? You're the genius. You said we'd come here to discuss how to keep me from being tossed into Azkaban just for talking to you when you're cursed. You're telling me you don't have a plan?"

"Don't suppose you couldn't just owl your father to free me?" Hermione asked.

"He's more likely to make you disappear permanently," Malfoy groaned and flopped back on his bed to stare at the ceiling.

Hermione looked around for somewhere to sit, feeling rather tired herself, and found a chair tucked under his desk. She pulled it out and sat down, facing Malfoy. "Well, let's look at the facts. I'm cursed to be invisible. You have some control over how much I can do, but only your father can release me entirely from the curse. Our professors are somehow aware that I'm under a curse and still participating in class. Both Harry and Ginny have witnessed your interactions with me at mealtimes, as have many other students, come to think of it."

Malfoy threw his arms out above and behind him, and Hermione swore she could hear his eye roll. "Yes, the whole wizarding community heard, and they'll all come after my hide for something I neither caused nor can fix if we don't do something, so what do we do?"

"I'm thinking, Malfoy!" Hermione fussed. Some part of her was tempted to let him get in trouble, but she didn't think the fallout would do her any good. Furthermore, she actually did feel slightly sorry for him. He couldn't help that his father was the greatest arsehole ever. "No chance you'll out your dad?"

"None," Malfoy hissed, lifting himself up just enough on his elbows to sneer at her. "Whatever we do, we're not going to give the world even more reasons to hate my family."

"Right," Hermione said, taking a deep breath and smoothing her skirt as she considered her options. "You know, I know you can't break the curse, but you did tell me to communicate with Ginny earlier through the spell. Can you let me speak and be seen too? Just… give me permission to live like usual on the condition I don't bring up the curse? Then we sort it out whenever your father leaves Azkaban?"

Malfoy scoffed. "Like I would trust you for that. Even if I obliviated you, you would still have that bracelet on, and you would wonder why you couldn't remove it."

"There are spells for that," Hermione said, latching onto the hope she might at least get her NEWTs out of the way before she had to find a way to free herself entirely.

Malfoy shook his head. "I don't even know if I can let you be seen and heard, but even if I could, there are too many ways it could go wrong."

Hermione considered, and an idea came to her. "Patronuses can send messages. They'll know it's me, since you can't mimic my patronus, and you'll get to hear the message first, so you can stop me if you think too much is being said."

"And what exactly are you going to say that will convince them not to come after me and my family?" Malfoy said. "It's not enough to claim you don't know why you can talk to me. They'll figure out it must be tied to my bloodline if not me directly. A lot of heirlooms are tied to bloodlines. They're just not usually cursed too."

Hermione thought and shrugged as she realized the answer. "I'll simply have to make up some other reason to have tied you to myself, since the opposite would implicate you. Perhaps I was thinking of you when I put it on." Hermione frowned as she went over her options for why she might think of Malfoy when putting on a bracelet. None of them were particularly appealing or flattering to her sensibilities.

"Were you thinking of me when you put it on?" Malfoy asked, slightly incredulous.

"Of course not. I was thinking of Ron," Hermione said without thinking. Hermione froze. She shouldn't have said that. She did not want to talk about Ron with Malfoy. If Malfoy teased her, she was entirely too likely to break down crying in front of him or start swinging at him, and she wasn't sure which was worse, given her circumstances.

"So what, you're going to claim you had a crush on me?" Malfoy asked, completely oblivious to her internal panic. "Would anyone even believe that? They all know we can't stand each other." He paused and looked up at her, frowning. "Besides, aren't you still dating that git?"

Hermione sighed. She couldn't escape this now. He would find out eventually anyway. Hermione closed her eyes and shook her head slowly. "He dumped me when he came by yesterday."

Malfoy's jaw dropped. "He dumped you? Why?" He paused, and his face took on a new level of consternation. "And how!? They were going on about how you disappeared before you left your room. When would he have seen you?"

Hermione took a deep breath and let it out. Humiliating as it was to admit the truth, there was a possibility Malfoy might pity her for what happened, and she was not too proud to take advantage of it. "I was cursed when it happened. He didn't see me. He knew from the map that I was in the common room with him and dumped me then."

Malfoy swore, and Hermione felt a strange validation that even her childhood bully was offended on her behalf by Ron's idiocy. "You know what?" Malfoy said when he was done swearing. "You'll tell them you had a crush on me. I will accept no other explanation now."

"What!?" Hermione exclaimed.

Malfoy grinned with an evil glint in his eyes. "Imagine how furious Weasley will be when he learns that his girl got cursed thinking about another bloke, and not just any bloke, but the person he hates most!"

Part of Hermione's heart thrilled at the idea of getting back at Ron in such a way. It was clever, and she could not deny that she would enjoy Ron's reaction to such news on some primal level. He had been absolutely awful to her, and yet… "Me, have a crush on you though?" she asked. It would solve the Malfoy implication quite nicely in the short-term, but who would believe it?

Malfoy sat up fully and held his arms out. "What? I'm handsome. I'm rich. I may not be as swotty as you, but I'm reasonably intelligent, and you love lost causes, so why not?" He dropped his arms. "After all, we've had an entire year of classes together away from Weasley. All kinds of things could have happened!"

Hermione was about to protest that Ginny would know better, but then again, she might not. Hermione did have several classes with Malfoy and not Ginny. A lot could have happened. "Did you just call yourself a lost cause?" she asked him, surprised at his attitude towards himself.

Malfoy blushed slightly, but ignored it. "Well, what do you say? Ready to confess that you bound yourself to me by thinking on your undying love for me when putting on a cursed piece of jewelry?" He grinned at her.

Hermione cringed. "It sounds like a cheap plot for a sleazy romance novel."

"I'll let you claim the royalties then. I don't need the money," Malfoy said, his grin widening. He was enjoying this entirely too much. Of course, his ego was the one that would get stroked. She was the one who would be humiliated and have her sanity questioned by everyone who knew her.

However, if that was the price to pay for her to get free… Hermione sighed and uncrossed her legs. "Fine. I'll tell them I got caught in the curse while thinking of my love for you."

Malfoy cackled so hard that Hermione snatched his pillow and threw it at him. When the curse forced the pillow to bounce away before hitting him, he doubled up and fell sideways from laughing.


	12. Message

"I really don't see how this is going to work," Hermione said as she and Malfoy looked over each other's drafted scripts of what Hermione should say. Malfoy had been the one to suggest they write down her words after her first attempt at confessing her love for him via Patronus had resulted in her insulting him twenty different ways in the process in addition to sounding completely unbelievable.

"You just need to learn how to lie convincingly, Granger," Malfoy said. He leaned back against his bed with his feet crossed at his ankles with her suggestions in hand and paused to snort at one of them. "Really? You think they would believe you care about my money?" he asked her, holding up the offending writing. "Even I knew to steer away from that one. This is you we're talking about."

"Are you certain we have to do this?" Hermione asked. She shifted her legs in his desk chair. She was tempted to move to the bed because her bum was sore, but she didn't want to get that comfortable with Malfoy even with the recent changes in circumstance. "Maybe we could claim someone gave me a love potion with your hair in it as a prank?" she suggested.

Malfoy's lips pursed in consideration. "It's not a bad idea, but a love potion at the same time that you got another curse? It's not like you're regularly sought out for harassment, Granger. I thought you wanted this to be believable."

Hermione scowled. "It's at least as believable as my falling for you!"

"Perhaps, but it won't make nearly the same impact on Potter and Weasley," Malfoy said with a smug smile. "Here, what about this one? I thought it was rather good." He stepped next to Hermione and pointed out one of the suggestions she hadn't gotten to yet.

Hermione picked it up, stood to stretch her legs, and read, "I know this isn't easy to believe, but Draco has changed since the war." Hermione paused. Considering he hadn't mentioned her fictional fascination with his arse or his bad boy reputation in this one yet, this was a good start. "He's changed. He doesn't make fun of muggle-borns anymore. He doesn't bully others." Hermione paused, her nerves tingling with the truth of what she was reading. How had she not realized before that he had stopped being the arse he was in the past? Granted, he was most definitely still a smug little pompous, self-serving git, but he was no longer outwardly malicious about it.

The thought rather put Hermione off-balance.

Shaking her head to clear it, she read on. "I reached out to him when I saw others were still bullying him, and you know how I feel about bullying. I couldn't help but think of him more. One thing lead to another, and he does have a great arse…" Hermione rolled her eyes and sat back down. Of course, he had to slip that in. "I'm not talking about your arse in a patronus to my friends, Malfoy."

Malfoy cackled, stepping back as he doubled over with glee. "Oh come on, Granger. I want to see their reactions! This is the most fun I've had all year."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him to show her disapproval, but inside, she was reeling. She should have noticed that he had changed sooner. She had spent the whole year thinking Malfoy had merely been sulking and licking his war wounds, but… he had changed, hadn't he? The old Malfoy would never have tolerated her to the extent this one had. It wasn't that Malfoy had become nice or anything… his treatment of her was decidedly harsh at times, and he certainly didn't soften his blows, but he no longer flaunted his wealth and power. He seemed almost embarrassed by it, if anything, given how he treated his power over her.

"You're not likely to see their reactions when they read anyway, Malfoy, unless you have an invisibility cloak hidden somewhere," Hermione said.

Malfoy scowled. "No. Always wanted one, of course. That's a thought. Don't think Potter would trade his for your freedom, would he?" Malfoy asked her.

"Absolutely," Hermione answered without hesitation, her heart thudding in her chest. "Would you-"

"No," Malfoy said with a grimace and clenched hands. "Family first, even if it's something I've always wanted." He paused as if an idea struck him. "You could go get it though… and bring it back to me," he suggested with a cocky grin.

Hermione rolled her eyes at him, fairly confident he was teasing her. "You're right though. This script isn't all bad. It sounds like something I might do," she said, redirecting his attention back to their plan. She chewed her bottom lip. "Let me make some revisions."

She spun around to face his desk, pulled out his quill, and started writing on a fresh sheet of parchment, occasionally referencing his one. Malfoy leaned over her right shoulder as she wrote, and while the sensation of his looming wasn't exactly comfortable, Hermione couldn't help but note that his proximity did not inspire the trepidation it once did. She trusted him not to hurt her without cause. It was a strange turning point after years of harassment at his hands. Funny that a curse could result in something even remotely positive.

After a moment of writing, she froze, as she suddenly realized what she was doing and had been doing for some time: She was writing.

"What is it?" Malfoy asked, his voice close enough that she blushed from the unexpected intimacy.

Hermione scooted the chair away and leaned back, trying to create space. Thankfully, Malfoy seemed to understand and straightened up himself, allowing Hermione comfortable breathing room. His own cheeks were a touch pink, as if he also recognized they had crossed a new boundary neither of them were entirely comfortable with.

"How is it that…" Hermione stopped. Should she really tell Malfoy that she was aware she could write with his permission? At least, she assumed that had to be the case. Why else would she be able to write now when he wanted her to and not earlier when he had no knowledge of it? "It's nothing," she said and bent back over the writing, trying to remember where she was. She had been rewriting what he had suggested regarding his attitude towards muggle-borns, and she pursed her lips together. "Are you really over your muggle-born bias?" she asked, looking up at him.

"What do you mean?" Malfoy responded, leaning back against the desk and looking over his shoulder at her. He still was close enough to watch what she wrote, but they had more space between them now. His expression was guarded, and Hermione wondered if she had crossed a line by even asking. "I stopped going out of my way to make their lives worse, if that's what you're asking," he added when she didn't immediately answer.

"But you've been rather decent to me, all things considered," Hermione pointed out. "Do you still think I'm less of a witch for having been muggle-born?"

Malfoy's eyes definitely narrowed that time. "You sound like you're getting confused, Granger. We may be working together, but we're not friends."

"Right," Hermione said, returning her attention to the words in front of her. Malfoy's rebuke stung more than she would have expected it to. Maybe he was right. Maybe she had been forgetting that they were little better than acquaintances, especially with how he had shared that he had been bullied earlier. "Apologies," she added, trying to find her balance again. She read over what she wrote and sighed. "That should about do it. Should I read it out to you?"

"Go on," Malfoy encouraged.

Hermione stood up, finding herself unable to sit still for this step, and began pacing his bedroom. "Professor McGonagall, I hope my message finds you well. I'm horribly sorry for not saying anything sooner, but I was rather embarrassed by my circumstances. You see, I could not divulge what happened to me without also revealing an incredibly awkward truth."

Hermione cringed, took a deep breath, and blew it out slowly. This was necessary. She could always clear up the misunderstandings this created later when she learned morse code.

"Yet, it's become clear that, if I don't act, he'll be implicated for what's happened to me when he is wholly innocent. You see, I was thinking of him when I fell under the curse, and now he is the only person who can easily see and hear me. You know that I am talking about Malfoy, and I can imagine your shocked faces. I wouldn't believe it either, but you don't have to look closely to see that he's changed from the war. He's different now. Better. Rather than judging him for being my unwilling companion in this curse, I hope you will take the time to understand him better and support him in becoming the best version of himself."

Hermione looked up at Malfoy and found him staring at her with a dazed expression. He cleared his throat and hopped away from the desk he had leaned on. "Well, it's certainly long-winded and swotty enough."

"It's brilliant," Hermione corrected.

"It's not bad," Malfoy admitted. He sighed and rubbed his face. "I'll need to write Mother though, or she'll be furious."

Furious? Why? Hermione narrowed her eyes, not seeing the connection. She didn't know Mrs. Malfoy well at all, but she did know Mrs. Malfoy would do anything to protect her son. Perhaps Mrs. Malfoy feared that Hermione might contaminate her son? Hermione itched to ask, but Malfoy's previous rebuke against her curiosity still stung. He was right though. They weren't friends.

"Should we wait?" Hermione asked. She leaned against his bed, relishing its comfort after sitting in his hard desk chair so long. Malfoy was sitting on his desk now, so she didn't quite feel right returning to that seat.

Malfoy studied his stone floor with a frown. "We shouldn't wait. She wouldn't risk a scandal by owling Father her fury, and I know it will be at least a week before she's allowed to visit him. I can set her straight by then."

Hermione's jaw dropped, and she completely forgot her commitment not to ask personal questions. "I don't understand. Why would your mother be furious with your father?"

Malfoy froze, cocked his head slightly sideways, and glared down at her. "No reason."

Hermione nearly growled in her frustration when one possibility clicked. "Wait, would your mother support me?"

Malfoy clenched with anger, then stalked forward towards Hermione as he began explaining. "Mother supports me, which also means she's fiercely protective of anyone else who supports me, and if you ever so much as dare to use that knowledge against her, I will make you wish you had never been born."

He stopped so close to Hermione that they were nearly nose-to-nose, but Hermione would not back down this time. She suspected she knew the measure of how far he would go, and she also needed him to trust her more if she were going to make any progress on the curse through him.

She took a deep breath and raised her brow at him. "Malfoy, do you really think I would use your mother against you?" Malfoy's eyes flared, but he remained silent. "Have you ever, and I do mean ever, known me to manipulate someone using their connections? It's really not my style." Hermione's use of polyjuice came to mind, but she figured this wasn't the time to argue that impersonating someone to learn secrets and steal was different than the emotional blackmail Malfoy likely had in mind.

Malfoy backed up just a few inches to study her closely. "I suppose subtlety is not one of your strengths," he said. "However, I've seen…" his voice trailed off, and his face twisted with horror and disgust for just a moment before he masked himself with a stony expression. "Desperation changes a person, Granger."

"It doesn't change me," Hermione said firmly.

They glared at each other for several more moments, with Malfoy looming over Hermione while she leaned against his bed, before Malfoy scowled and looked away. "We'll see," he said.

"I swear your mother is safe from me," Hermione said. When Malfoy tensed up in response instead of relaxing, Hermione took a different approach to convincing him he could talk to her more. "I do support you though." Malfoy's head jerked back to look at her so quickly Hermione rubbed her own neck in sympathy. "Though we both know I haven't developed particular feelings for you, I do wish the rest of this were true. I wish I had noticed that you had changed before. You're not my favorite person, but I would have supported you."

Malfoy snorted as his eyes narrowed to slits. "Really, Granger? I suppose it's rather Gryffindor to make a blunt attempt at manipulating the source rather than going through their connections."

"I'm not trying to manipulate you!" Hermione said, though she glanced sideways as she said it, feeling the falsehood of it. She may not have been trying to manipulate him in that exact moment, but she certainly had thought of it plenty. Malfoy also appeared to have noticed, as he only responded by raising his brow at her skeptically. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut as she cringed with her mistake. When she opened them again, they were nearly brimming with her tears of frustration. She desperately needed Malfoy to trust her, and she had no idea how to make it happen. Flashbacks to all the times Ron and Harry had rejected her filled her mind, and the dams burst as she broke down crying. "What should I do?" she found herself asking Malfoy.

She felt the bed shift next to her, and she looked up in surprise to see Malfoy sitting beside her and holding out a handkerchief to her.

"Thank you," Hermione mumbled as she took it, wiped her face, and blew her nose. She took out her wand and muttered a quick scourgify on the cloth. "I did mean it… about your mother. I can't see myself ever using her to hurt you. I also do wish I had noticed sooner that you had changed, Malfoy. I don't know that anything would have been different, but I should have at least noticed," Hermione said through her tears. "I'm so sorry I didn't even notice."

"I believe you," Malfoy said, looking at the floor. He turned his gaze to her and repeated himself. "I believe you."

Something deep in Hermione cracked in relief, and she had to restrain herself from hugging Malfoy on impulse as her tears flowed harder. "Thank you," Hermione said with full sincerity. If only her disagreements with Ron and Harry had ever been so simple to resolve.

"Why are you crying more!?" Malfoy asked with alarm. His horror was so apparent that Hermione couldn't help but chuckle at it, and when she realized she was laughing and crying at the same time, she fully dissolved into giggles. Malfoy just stared at her in shocked disbelief.

"Thank you, Malfoy, I needed that," Hermione said once she calmed down and could school her expression again. She scourgified his handkerchief once more and passed it back to him. "Really, thank you. Should I go ahead and cast my patronus to send the message?"

"Uh… err… yea," Malfoy said. "Let's get this over with."

Hermione pulled out her wand and took a deep breath. "_Expecto patronum_!"


	13. Ginny

**Chapter 13 - Ginny**

After delivering the message via patronus to Professor McGonagall, Hermione left Malfoy's room in a daze. She hardly paid attention as she navigated her way through the dark corridors in the Slytherin dungeons to the common room. She phased through the exit without a thought and made it back to Gryffindor tower with no real awareness of the journey.

The patronus declaring her affection for Malfoy had to be done to remove suspicion from him, but how would her friends react?

Hermione had been tempted to follow her patronus to witness McGonagall's response, but she suspected she might go mad watching it when she couldn't intervene. Hermione sighed deeply, walked up the stairs from the common room to her dormitory, and opened the door out of habit. Ginny was there, pacing the room, but she stopped and looked up when Hermione entered.

"You're there then, I suppose," Ginny said with a stony expression. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, raised her eyebrows, and then looked down in the direction of the door. "For the record, I'm furious with you. I can't believe you would attack me to defend the ferret. You must be barmy or something… If you weren't cursed right now... " Ginny trailed off and put her hands on her hips, glaring at the door. "Seriously, protecting Malfoy? You better answer some questions for me right now."

Hermione sighed. She hadn't even thought up a plan for what to tell Ginny of the truth. Ginny was a decent actress and secret-keeper, but she was also fiery, which meant that Malfoy might grow suspicious if Ginny didn't keep lashing out at him impulsively. But even more complicated was the lack of a way to say what she wanted before she learned morse code.

"Say something, Hermione! Your patronus can talk, and I know Malfoy can hear you, so cast it and let's talk, okay?" Ginny pleaded.

Hermione walked to her bed and sat down before pulling out her wand and directing it at her nightstand. She did not expect Malfoy would try to steal the map from her given how relieved he had seemed when he found out she intended to keep it as a bargaining chip, but she was not so daft as to rely entirely on trusting Malfoy.

After Hermione removed the series of curses and charms keeping the map hidden and safe in her nightstand, she opened it up and pulled the map back out. In that exact moment, Hermione realized she could have simply stuck her incorporeal hand into her nightstand and retrieved it without ever pulling out her wand. "Well, I do miss my magic," Hermione muttered as an excuse for herself.

Ginny had come closer, looking between the bed and the nightstand. "What is it, Hermione? Do you want me to get something out of your nightstand?"

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut in frustration, then offered Ginny the Marauder's map. When Ginny didn't react, Hermione recalled that the map was invisible since Hermione was holding it too. Hermione entertained thoughts of burning the portrait of whoever came up with this blasted curse and set the map down on top of her nightstand, hoping that would be enough to make it visible.

"Oh! The Marauder's map. You want me to have it?" Ginny asked. Ginny picked it up and looked at it. "Do you want me to spy on Malfoy's location?"

Hermione quickly stood up and tugged on the map before Ginny could activate it. "Come on, Ginny. I know you can figure this out."

Ginny stared blankly at the map for a moment before her eyes lit up. "Oh, you need to tug on the map again to communicate? But what about your patronus? Can't you cast it instead?"

Hermione growled. "Ask me questions I can answer with a yes or a no, Ginny!" Then again, Hermione couldn't quite remember whether one tug meant yes or no herself.

"Oh wait, I'm not asking you right, am I? Well, Hermione, can you cast your patronus?" Ginny asked, then frowned. "Wait, was one tug yes or two tugs yes?"

"Just decide for both of us," Hermione moaned.

"Well, suppose you can't exactly answer me. We'll make one tug be no, and two tugs be yes," Ginny said. She frowned and bit the side of her bottom lip. "I wish I had some easy way to confirm it's you. So much for constant vigilance, I suppose… At least until George sends the morse code book. I take it you saw my note?"

Two tugs for yes.

Ginny smiled with anticipation. "I can't wait until I can talk with you properly again. What happened with the patronus? Can you cast it now?"

One tug for no. Hermione sighed and sat back down on her bed, dragging Ginny slightly with her. Ginny sat down beside her immediately, keeping the map gripped between them.

"So what's the deal? Why can't you cast it now? Do you have your wand?"

Two tugs for yes.

"Of course, I did see you casting spells… Then what? You cast your patronus earlier when Malfoy…" Ginny gasped. "Do you need Malfoy's permission or something? Earlier, you did the patronus after he told you to!"

Hermione cringed. She had been hoping to avoid any discussion of Malfoy's role in her curse until she had more time to think out what it would mean for Ginny to know the truth.

"Why aren't you answering, Hermione? You're still there, right?" Ginny tugged on the map, and relaxed when Hermione's hands held it taut. "Hermione, I need to know. What is going on with you and Malfoy? Did he curse you?"

Hermione sighed. That was easy enough. One tug for no.

"So he didn't curse you… can he free you?"

One tug for no. Hermione found herself wishing very badly for the morse code book, if only so she could control the conversation. She hated leaving it completely up to Ginny.

"Well, it's not like he ever would free you if he could," Ginny said. "You are certain though?"

Two tugs for yes. Of course, Malfoy might be able to free her in the distant future, but certainly not while his father lived. Hermione thought back to how Malfoy had reacted to her question about that. Better not to mention it to Ginny at this time.

Ginny pouted and sank into herself some. "I don't even know what to ask, Hermione. I wish Harry were here… You know, all those years I was jealous that you were the one at Harry and Ron's side, but now that it's just me here, I really wish I had their help." Ginny frowned and crossed her legs. "Oh! I could ask Luna! Of course, she'll likely go on about snifflebobs or hedgerbombs or something like that… but she is clever. Far more clever than me, anyway. I would do much better if I could fly or dare my way through this problem… or kiss my way." Ginny made a face. "Well, I'd rather not kiss the ferret, if it's all the same. Don't get me wrong, he's cute enough, but the personality is definitely lacking. I'd say Pansy was barmy for taking to him for so long, but then, I always knew she was daft, so no real surprise there."

Hermione didn't disagree on either account, really, but Malfoy had changed for the better since the war. She didn't want to kiss him personally, of course, but she felt it was unfair of Ginny to suggest that he was so very awful. Then again, his father had tried to kill her through Tom Riddle's diary. Ginny also hadn't seen Malfoy lie to his own parents to protect his enemies simply because it was the right thing to do. Ginny knew about it, of course, but had dismissed it as secretly saving his own skin, as had Hermione at the time… however…

Now, Hermione wondered.

"So can anyone else see you outside Malfoy?" Ginny asked. One tug for no. Ginny pursed her lips. "And can you cast your patronus when you want?"

Hermione hesitated again. If she answered the truth, she would be implicating Malfoy, but if she lied, she would have to find some other excuse for not casting her patronus instead of this tugging business with the Marauder's map.

"You're hesitating again," Ginny said, her mouth quirking down as her expression fell. "I don't understand why. You must know I want to help you."

Two tugs for yes. Hermione just needed more time to think… and maybe also her notebooks so she could write out her thoughts to color-code and organize. She had gotten used to not having her old tools well enough when she and Harry were on the run in the woods, but they did help. She wondered if she might convince Malfoy to return that option to her, so that she might study better, if nothing else. It was abundantly clear that the curse did not prevent her from writing when Malfoy wished her to write.

"Well, you always were the brilliant one with the ideas. You have had ideas for getting free of this, right?"

Two tugs for yes. Of course, Hermione would need more time to determine what she could safely share with Ginny. If anything got back to Malfoy before she was freed…

Hermione sighed. She had entirely too much going on for everything in her head, and almost no free time to just sit and think. At least her afternoon was free. Of course, she still needed to study for her exams too…

"Anything I can help with?" Ginny asked.

Hermione blinked as she realized she didn't know what Ginny was asking to help with. Ah! The ideas she had for freeing herself. Hermione tugged the map into a circle, hoping it would get the message across.

"What was that? You're saying you're not sure?" Ginny asked.

Two tugs for yes.

Ginny's shoulders slumped slightly. "Well, I guess that makes sense, but you let me know if I can help." A grin slid into place. "By the way, did you try to punch Malfoy earlier?"

Two tugs for yes. Ginny exploded in laughter, and Hermione beamed.

"I'm so glad you're still yourself… you know, Harry was worried Malfoy might be extorting you somehow… I mean, you have been following him around and all that, and why else would you attach yourself to that slimy death eater git? I mean, don't you hate him?"

One tug for no, and Hermione stared at her hands in surprise at how readily she owned that she didn't hate Malfoy, because it was more than what she had expected.

Ginny seemed to take this in stride. "Oh, well, maybe not hate him outright, but you at least strongly dislike him, don't you?"

Yesterday morning, Hermione would have said yes without hesitation… and yet… Hermione tugged the map in a circle. She didn't know. He was so much less awful than what she expected in this situation that she couldn't feel that she strongly disliked him now, especially now that she knew he had been enduring bullying without defending himself. Of course, he did say that was just to avoid being thrown in Azkaban, but she expected he would feel bad to hurt his peers too. At no point since the war had she seen him delight in hurting others… even when it would've been easy, like with her.

Was he someone she might want to be friends with now? It was such a strange thought, but it was one worth considering. She needed him as an ally, but the more time she spent with him…

Or was this stockholm syndrome somehow? Wasn't finding your captor more relatable from spending time with them a sign of stockholm syndrome? And yet, that wasn't it… if he were still the same prat he had been before the war, she was certain she wouldn't have any interest in him beyond what was necessary to free her from the curse.

Ginny had been quiet and contemplative too, but now she looked at where Hermione sat, eyes searching for where Hermione's eyes would be. "Hermione, you know how dangerous he is. He was a death eater. His father has tried to kill us so many times… I know his mother's not all bad, but you can't let this curse confuse you. He bullied you for years. Just because he's the only person you can talk to easily doesn't mean he's suddenly worth knowing."

Hermione frowned. It was more complicated than that, and also less sudden than that. If Hermione had noticed before the curse how Malfoy had changed… she didn't know that they would be friends, exactly, but she would have probably talked to him more about school work, if nothing else… maybe kept an eye open for when he was being bullied.

Ginny sighed and tucked a loose strand of her red hair back behind her right ear. "I can't imagine what you must be going through with him. He must be having you do all sorts of things in exchange for promises to communicate with us, since you can't easily do it yourself."

One tug for no. Malfoy had done nothing of the sort. He had made deals with her, yes, but he had followed through on his promises. He had shown her the book entry on her cursed bracelet. He had given her her magic. He hadn't used his power over her to his advantage at all, had he? Everything he had done had been about managing the curse's impact on the both of them.

Ginny scoffed. "Wait, are you saying Malfoy's actually been nice about it?"

Two tugs for yes. Hermione was getting angry now. Was it that hard to believe Malfoy might change? She knew she had missed it, but Ginny was a social butterfly. Surely Ginny would have noticed or heard something, right?

Ginny's jaw dropped, and she looked forward with disgust on her face. "He's done something, hasn't he? Imperius or a potion or something… Don't worry, Hermione. I'll make sure he answers for whatever it is he's doing to you. I need to go write Harry now, but I'm here for you, okay?"

Hermione sighed, feeling defeated, and tugged the map twice. Her heart weighed her down as she watched Ginny get up and leave the room. She hadn't even lied to Ginny, and Ginny was convinced Hermione had been somehow manipulated by Malfoy. How much worse would it be when Ginny learned of what Hermione said in the patronus to McGonagall?

Hermione flopped back on her bed and stared at the ceiling. Her patronus wouldn't remove suspicion from Malfoy at all. If anything, it would force an immediate investigation into every potion and spell he had encountered.

"What have we done?" Hermione moaned.


	14. Warning

# Chapter 14 - Warning

“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good,” Hermione said, holding the Marauder’s map in her hands. She bit her lip in her impatience as the map unfolded. She had to find McGonagall quickly to figure out what to do. She scanned through the map, pointing her finger at each area of the castle to keep track of where she had checked and not checked. “Where are you, McGonagall?” she muttered.

She didn’t know why she and Malfoy ever thought their plan might work… it was clear Ginny would never believe it, and neither would Harry or Ron… but if McGonagall did, then they had a chance to mitigate Harry’s inevitable overreaction. Hermione had no doubt that Harry would do everything he could to bring the full force of the auror department down on Malfoy and find out how Malfoy had supposedly... enchanted? Cursed? Magicked? Whatever the word would be for magically forcing her to feel affection for him.

“There really ought to be a word for that,” Hermione said. “There!” she exclaimed as she found McGonagall on the map. She was in the headmaster’s office alone. Of course, the map wouldn’t show if McGonagall were speaking with Harry via the Floo Network.

Ten hurried minutes later, Hermione was heaving to catch her breath outside the headmaster’s office. She didn’t know how to get in though. She couldn’t tell the gargoyle statue a password, and she wasn’t sure if she was comfortable phasing into a staircase. What if she got stuck somehow? “Oh bother, Hermione Jean Granger. You’re braver than this!” she fussed at herself, and then she stepped into space where she knew the stairs hid. It was dark, so she pulled out her wand and cast _ lumos _. She was in the stairwell for the office, but her feet were inside the steps. “Well, that’s awkward,” she grumbled and lifted her feet out one at a time to place firmly on the steps before climbing the rest of the way up.

She entered the headmaster’s office to find Professor McGonagall deep in conversation with the portrait of Professor Dumbledore. “I just don’t understand, Albus. None of this makes sense. I can’t really believe Hermione would have developed affection for Draco in this past year… You know I had the portraits watching both of them at times given their roles in the war, and no one’s reported the two even so much as talking to each other in passing. If she does feel something for him, it cannot be her own feelings, and then where did they come from?”

“Hermione would not be the first student at Hogwarts to fall victim to a love potion,” Dumbledore said from his portrait. He massaged his forehead and sighed. “Yet, I cannot believe Draco Malfoy would have done something so vile. For all that he despised Hermione Granger, he never did more than say ugly things to her on school grounds that I heard of. Hermione was far more likely to be injured from her own carelessness, and Draco’s spells were typically saved for Harry Potter and Ron Weasley.”

Hermione slipped in and took a seat in one of the chairs meant for guests. She felt strange, eavesdropping so brazenly, but neither professor could see or hear her directly. Dumbledore’s words surprised her too. She had never really thought about it before, given how often she intervened with the fighting between the boys, but Malfoy never had focused on her for the spellwork, had he? In fact, when had been the last time he had called her a mudblood or made fun of her at all? Of course, he had called her a mudblood when she caught him off-guard in the Slytherin dungeons, but she suspected he had just been testing whether she was really Hermione. He certainly had said nothing since to suggest he meant it.

McGonagall shifted her weight to her other leg. “Though without either Potter or Weasley in the school, it is possible he might settle his revenge on Hermione instead, if he were wishing revenge for their role in defeating you-know-who.”

Dumbledore was already shaking his head. “His name was Lord Voldemort, Minerva, or Tom Riddle, if you prefer. You recall that I requested permission to speak with Draco privately before you admitted him back to this school? There was no desire for revenge. He may still hold a school-grudge against Potter and Weasley, but nothing deeper than that, and he did not even mention Hermione.”

McGonagall’s eyebrows shot up. “And you believed him?”

“I would not have allowed his admission otherwise,” Dumbledore said. “Whatever he has done to Miss Granger is not related to the war. Though to be perfectly honest, I’m not sure he’s done anything at all.”

“But the patronus… she said she had feelings for him, Albus! She said that he’s changed and she fell for him as a result. A brilliant war heroine like Hermione falling for a former death eater? I’ve never heard greater hogwash in all my years…”

“And yet, he has changed, has he not?” Dumbledore pointed out. “How many times have you come to me asking for advice on how to handle the bullying he receives in the halls without trying to defend himself? How many times have you remarked how impressively he is doing now given his abysmal grades the previous years, and how you wish more people took note of his improvements?”

McGonagall sighed heavily and crossed her arms. “Well, yes, I noticed… and he has changed, but I’m certain Hermione had not. She would have done something. Likely set up a Malfoy Protection Squad or some such nonsense.”

Hermione blushed at this rather too-accurate description of how she might have reacted. 

“Perhaps she was afraid to be seen supporting Malfoy publicly after their history.”

“Hermione? Afraid? Do be serious, Albus. Hermione’s a Gryffindor, through and through. She’s braver than half of the other Gryffindors put together.”

“Braver at some things, certainly, but not so brave at relationships. She was not one to take the initiative in her relationships, and she feared rejection deeply. Perhaps she has not helped Malfoy simply because she feared quite correctly that he would likely spurn her efforts.”

McGonagall pressed her lips together into a thin line. “Perhaps.” Her shoulders dropped, and she half-collapsed back into her usual chair at her desk. “It doesn’t much matter, however. Once Potter gets word of this he will demand a full investigation into Malfoy. I can only protect Malfoy so much, assuming he even deserves protection in this matter. There will be no standing against the Chosen One’s request in this matter, however.” 

“I suppose you are correct, though it is a pity,” Dumbledore said. “Malfoy has worked very hard to repair his reputation this last year, and the Malfoys are still powerful, despite their infamy in the war. It would be a shame to make an enemy of Draco.”

McGonagall snorted. “As if you ever cared to play politics with the Malfoys, Albus.

“Not with Lucius, certainly, but Draco is a different creature. I have high hopes he may yet be a very respectable wizard.”

McGonagall moaned and ran her fingers over her scalp. “I much preferred it when all this nonsense was your duty, and I only had to mind my Gryffindors. He’s not going to want to turn his wand over… and we’ll need Hermione’s too… and I’ll need to speak with Horace to see what potions Draco may have had access to. Perhaps, if I do enough of the investigation myself, I can at least spare him the extra difficulty of having to endure his old school nemesis in that role.”

“I expect Draco would greatly appreciate that. You must realize that you will need to interview Hermione directly to keep Harry from marching here?”

McGonagall sighed and folded her hands. “This is the only communication I have received where I could hear Hermione’s voice. If her patronus is to be believed, she can speak through patronus and only held back out of embarrassment. However, if that’s not the case… I did communicate with her this morning using a series of tugs on that most peculiar map I told you about. She was only able to respond yes and no, but Ginevra Weasley said there is a form of muggle talk called morse code that could be adapted to the map-tugging to form full words and sentences. She is waiting to receive a book on it from her brother now, I believe. I do know that the Hogwarts library is lacking on the subject, though I have written to several bookshops in Diagon Alley to see what they might have as well.”

“The muggles have always fascinated me with their ingenuity,” Dumbledore said. “I am glad to see you have it well-handled. Do please keep me posted.”

“Of course, Albus,” McGonagall said. Her conversation with Dumbledore done, she pulled out a fresh piece of parchment, prepared her quill, and began writing furiously.

Hermione debated reading over McGonagall’s shoulder, but she suspected she would learn nothing new, and she had to warn Malfoy. She left the headmaster’s office and entered the regular castle in a daze. Her thoughts were everywhere as she pulled the Marauder’s map back out and sought out Malfoy’s location on it. He was outside on the Quidditch grounds. Odd, considering he wasn’t on the team anymore, but he did enjoy flying.

Hermione made it halfway to the front doors before her head cleared properly, and she froze as she realized what she was doing. “Why am I rushing to warn Malfoy like he’s one of my friends?” she asked herself quietly. “He is not my friend. He doesn’t even want to be my friend… He’s made that quite clear.” 

Her heart hurt, and she shivered as she realized what her reaction meant for her relationship with Malfoy. “I couldn’t stand him yesterday… how could I possibly want his friendship now?” Hermione clenched her fists and took a deep breath. “This all started because I felt sorry for him. Well, perhaps I do just feel sorry for him, and I got confused.” Some of the pain eased away, and Hermione sighed, relieved to be breathing more easily. “That’s right. I only feel sorry for him, and he has shown that he’s changed. It’s not like there would be anything to be ashamed of were I to want his friendship.”

Except that she knew he would reject it. 

Hermione took several more deep breaths, trying to clear her thoughts and emotions. When she still felt heartache after counting out ten deep breaths in and out, she slumped her shoulders and admitted defeat.

“_Expecto Patronum_,” she said in a defeated tone. Her first attempt failed, and she growled, forcing herself to focus on a positive memory. _ “Expecto Patronum!” _she shouted, and her silver otter patronus came forward. “I need you to relay the following message to Draco Malfoy: Our plan failed. They suspect you have done something to make me fall for you. McGonagall plans to investigate you directly to spare you from Harry, but she will be thorough.” Hermione paused and realized that McGonagall might be on her way to Malfoy’s room even now. “I’ll go ahead and help clear your room of anything suspicious. Good luck.”

She waved her wand, and her otter bounded off towards the Quidditch fields. Hermione blushed as she realized she probably shouldn’t have told Malfoy good luck at the end. Would he realize she worried about him now? Would he find her annoying for it like Harry and Ron sometimes did?

Hermione shook her head. She could spend all day analyzing how Malfoy might react, but she had to get to his rooms and at least hide the book on curses before McGonagall arrived or they would both be in deep trouble.


	15. Search

**Chapter 15 - Search**

Hermione's lungs burned by the time she made it down to the Slytherin dungeons and into Malfoy's room. She had passed by McGonagall speaking with Professor Slughorn about entering Malfoy's room on the way, so Hermione knew she didn't have much time.

It was strange, entering his room without him, and she half-expected to encounter wards against her. Had he promised to protect her from entering his room without his permission? She couldn't remember. However, it was clear he hadn't followed through if he had.

Her eyes darted around the room, trying to determine what would need to be hidden to ensure he didn't get arrested and removed from Hogwarts. "Oh, the fireworks bag," she muttered, spotting it next to the coat rack where she had left it the night before. She picked it up and slung it over her shoulder, then began looking for the book that had the entry on her cursed bracelet. "_Accio _cursed items book!" she said, waving her wand. Nothing happened. Hermione sighed and blew a loose strand of curly hair out of her face. "_Accio_ books!" she tried instead.

Books came flying out from Malfoy's desk, his wardrobe, and several other places, including under his bed. Hermione yelped and closed her eyes as they flew towards her. She heard a series of thuds hit the door behind her and looked down to discover she had phased through them. "Well, that was lucky," she said and gingerly stepped out of them to a clear spot. There were at least thirty books in the pile, and while Hermione was able to quickly find the cursed bracelet book, she had no idea which of the others might be considered contraband as well. She chewed her lip for a moment, considering, and shrugged. "It's not like I have time to go through them now."

Hermione cast charms to make the stack of books feather-light and tiny, then swept them into her bag with the fireworks. "I'll just have to sort out returning them later," she said. "Now, what else?" Her eyes went to his desk, and she recalled that they had written out scripts for what she would say. The desk was cleared now, but he had a wastebasket beside it that had not been cleared. Hermione opened her mouth to cast a spell that would destroy the evidence, but then thought better of it and dumped the contents in her bag as well.

Voices came from outside the door then, and Hermione stood still by his desk as she heard Professor Slughorn say, "_Alohomora!" _and Malfoy's door opened to let in Professor Slughorn and Professor McGonagall. "Now, Minerva, I still don't quite feel right about doing this without the boy present. It is his room, and if he's warded it at all…"

"I had the castle dismantle any wards on his room before I went to find you," McGonagall stated crisply as she slowly took in the room. Hermione had to step back to avoid having McGonagall walk through her. "Odd. His desk drawers were left open. I didn't think Malfoy would be so careless."

Hermione's eyes widened as she realized that McGonagall's actions may well have been what allowed her in the room. Professor Slughorn seemed shocked too. "I hadn't realized that Hogwarts had such power, and no, it is unlike Malfoy to leave his drawers open. Are you certain we cannot wait for him?"

McGonagall paused in her perusal of the drawer's contents, sighed, and closed her eyes briefly. "Potter would never trust our investigation if he had any reason to believe Malfoy could have interfered with it. Do recall that we're doing this to help protect Malfoy as well. I have great respect for Potter, but there's no question that he has lost his temper on more than one occasion when Malfoy was involved. I am trying to prevent an even greater incident."

Hermione ducked out of the way again when McGonagall stepped closer. Sighing, Hermione went to stand in the middle of the bed, taking advantage of her phasing ability to safely watch her professors search the room without risking the discomfort of going through them in her current state. She was tired enough that she was tempted to lay down, but she knew the professors would notice if the bed suddenly sank to accommodate her.

McGonagall continued to search the desk and underneath it while Slughorn went through Malfoy's wardrobe. "Nothing of interest here. Just a bunch of expensive clothes. What exactly are we looking for anyway, Minerva? We'll need his wand to know if he's imperiused her or similar."

"Books, I suppose. Madam Pince mentioned that he had borrowed something from the restricted section yesterday that he asked her to keep off record."

Slughorn shrugged. "Well, the boy does like to read some, particularly where potions are concerned, but I've not seen a single book in his room yet."

McGonagall froze, straightened up, and stared carefully at Slughorn. "Neither have I. _Accio _books," she said, waving her wand.

Hermione clenched her bag shut as its contents tried to fight their way free to answer the summoning spell. "Don't you dare, or I'll transfigure you into toothpicks," she muttered at the books. After a minute, McGonagall dropped her wand hand down, and the books settled again within the bag.

"How peculiar. Now why would Malfoy's room not have a single book in it?" McGonagall asked Slughorn.

Slughorn frowned with a corner of his mouth. "And his desk drawer had been left open. Do you think..?"

"Hermione?" McGonagall responded, looking around the room. "Hermione, are you here? Are you searching Malfoy's room for answers too?"

"I thought you said she couldn't speak to us," Slughorn said as he took in the room, as if he might suddenly spot Hermione now that he knew she might be present.

"She did cast a patronus to speak to me earlier today. No one could have made that patronus but her," McGonagall said.

Slughorn shrugged. "You might be going about this the wrong way, Minerva. They may be working together. Now, I know what you said about Hermione and Draco having a rough past, but I've seen my share of young witches and wizards overcoming great differences to find that they are more powerful working together, and I cannot think of a more powerful combination of witch and wizard."

McGonagall rolled her eyes. "He used to call her a mudblood, Horace. Furthermore, you told me yourself that they have hardly interacted at all this past year. When would they have had the opportunity?"

Horace paused, considering. "They could have written each other," he suggested.

"Be serious, Horace," McGonagall admonished.

Horace shrugged. "You're probably correct. Still, with all the books missing… Draco would have only hidden incriminating materials and left his school books. Removing all of them is definitely more of a Gryffindor move, but even Hermione would have no reason to take the school books with her, would she?"

McGonagall adjusted her glasses as she narrowed her eyes in thought. "Perhaps he transfigured his other books to look like school books, and so she took them all for that reason?" She frowned. "But taking them would surely alert Malfoy to what she was doing… It would be far more sensible for her to simply examine his books in his room when he's not present." She inhaled sharply. "The wards, though. Perhaps he had wards earlier, and this was the first time she was able to get in without him."

Slughorn's eyebrows raised. "That is certainly a possibility, but there's no question Malfoy would find out that she had taken them in that case. Would she really risk Malfoy's wrath in her current state?"

"I need to speak with her," McGonagall said and sighed. "I haven't found anything. Have you?"

"Nothing at all. Minerva, I do understand why you are doing this investigation, but it seems so unlike the Draco I know now. The war changed him. He's been a model student since his return. Older students complain that he's gotten soft and boring by not joining in their harassment of other houses. Some of the younger ones have shared that he's taught them spells to help defend themselves when attacked. You already know of his involvement in helping Hogwarts recover from the war. I just can't believe he would be behind anything so malicious as this curse that has caught Hermione."

Hermione's jaw dropped, and she felt nearly dizzy with shock. Malfoy had been helping the younger students learn how to defend themselves? She pulled up her legs to sit on the bed instead of standing in it so she could think better. The gasps of McGonagall and Slughorn alerted her to her mistake, and she cringed at her own carelessness.

"You are here, aren't you, Hermione?" McGonagall asked. "If you can't send another patronus, could you at least talk to me using that map again? You do understand Malfoy's fate may rest in your hands."

Hermione sighed, set down her bag in her lap, and pulled out the Marauder's map. She almost offered it to McGonagall when she remembered that Ginny didn't see it until she set it down. Hermione set it down on the bed next to where McGonagall stood.

"Fascinating. The map came out of thin air!" Slughorn said.

McGonagall snorted as she picked up the map and held it out towards where Hermione sat on the bed. "You sound like a muggle, Horace. Now, Hermione, do you have Mr. Malfoy's books?" she asked. "Two tugs for yes, one tug for no, if you don't mind."

Two tugs for yes. Hermione saw no reason to hide it now that they had discovered they were missing.

"Did she tug once or twice?" Slughorn asked.

"Twice. She has the books."

"Well then, why did she take all the books?" Slughorn asked.

"She can't answer open questions, Horace. She'll need us to phrase it as a yes or no question. Hermione, did you take all the books so that you could identify which ones contained the information you needed?"

One tug for no.

"She said no… How peculiar. Then why would she..?"

Slughorn rubbed his chin. "I'm going to go out on a limb here, McGonagall, and ask her a question of my own. Hermione, did you take the books to help Malfoy?"

Hermione took a deep breath and tugged the map twice.

"She said yes!" McGonagall cried in alarm. "But I don't understand… Hermione, why would you protect him? I know you claimed to have feelings for him in your patronus, but…" She cleared her throat. "Hermione, do you think of Malfoy… fondly?"

Hermione hesitated, but she knew what she had to answer. It wasn't even entirely a lie. She did wish she had become friends with Malfoy now. Two tugs for yes.

"She said yes," McGonagall said, clearly at a loss. "I thought Malfoy might have forced you to send that patronus, but you did it willingly?"

Two tugs for yes. Hermione might not be able to convince Ginny that she felt something for Malfoy, but if she could convince McGonagall...

"I don't understand. I don't understand at all," McGonagall said. "When did you develop this affection? How? We never saw anything of it."

Slughorn smiled. "Perhaps my earlier suggestion that they wrote each other is not so ludicrous as you thought," he said. "They would not be the first students at Hogwarts to have maintained a secret relationship through writing, and I hardly need to explain why they would wish to keep it secret."

McGonagall took a deep breath. "I suppose it's possible. Hermione, were you and Malfoy writing each other?"

Hermione tugged twice immediately as the possibilities filled her mind. If she and Malfoy declared they had been writing in secret, she could easily provide evidence of their relationship spanning several months in the past… of course, there were spells to determine how old someone's letter was, but if she and Malfoy simply transfigured their old notes, they could generate letters of the appropriate age to trick McGonagall and the others, and…

"We'll need to see the letters," McGonagall said. "You must understand how difficult this situation is for us."

Two tugs for yes.

"Well, where are they?" McGonagall asked, but her attention shifted to the door. The knob turned.

Hermione's heart thundered as she realized the map was out. She quickly claimed the map from McGonagall and hid it back into her bag as the door opened to reveal Malfoy. He entered with wary eyes, closed the door behind him, and casually leaned on it as he took in his unexpected guests.

"Greetings, professor, headmaster," Malfoy said in a drawl. "I hadn't realized my room was such a popular meeting place for the Hogwarts staff." He didn't acknowledge Hermione except to furrow his brow slightly as he glanced down at where she sat on his bed.

McGonagall lowered her head slightly. "My apologies, Mr. Malfoy, but circumstances have forced us to take a closer look at your activities." When he narrowed his eyes at her, she sighed and tilted her head sideways. "It was us or Potter, Malfoy. I was trying to spare you unnecessary grievances. Would you have preferred Potter to be here?"

Malfoy massaged the bridge of his nose and stepped forward, relaxing his shoulders. "No, no… you made the right call in that, but I would like to know why I am under investigation. I assume that this has something to do with Granger's curse?"

Professor McGonagall straightened her own posture. "Are you aware that Hermione Granger sent me a patronus? I'm sure you can see that she's in your room."

Malfoy cleared his throat and looked to his bed. "Yes, she told me of the patronus, and I had rather noticed her presence. It didn't seem polite to point out, particularly given that she's on my bed." He sighed as if disappointed and gestured with a jerk of his head for her to move. "Off, Granger. We've talked about this."

Hermione rolled her eyes and climbed off of his bed to sit at his desk instead. "I have your books in my bag, by the way, and they've figured out I must have been the one to take them, given you have no reason to hide all your books."

Malfoy frowned at her and came to stand close to her. He placed his hands on his hips and looked down at her. "You took all of my books?"

Hermione shrugged. "I didn't know what else you might need to hide, and I didn't have the time to go through them." She blushed as he continued to stare at her. "I was trying to protect you."

His eyes widened just slightly with surprise, but then he shook his head. "I've told you before, Granger. I don't need your protection. Take my books back out of your bag and place them on the desk for review." He took a deep breath and softened his tone. "I know you meant well, but refusing to cooperate will only bring me harm."

"I'm going to hold them up one at a time," Hermione said. "If I shouldn't reveal it, blink twice at me, okay?"

Malfoy didn't answer, but his eyes glinted with appreciation, and Hermione could swear she saw the ghost of a smirk. She got her wand ready, took out a book on potions, enlarged it, and held it up. Malfoy didn't react, so she set it down on the desk. One by one, she stacked the books on the desk. On the other side of the room, McGonagall and Slughorn quietly talked to each other and watched the pile of books grow. In the end, Malfoy only had her keep three books hidden. The one on cursed objects, as Hermione expected, a book on how to thwart interrogations, and a very old book on the imperius curse.

The book on how to thwart interrogations did not surprise Hermione, but she raised an eyebrow at the third book. "You're going to explain this later," she told him. Malfoy merely rolled his eyes at her.

"If that's everything, and I hope it is, you're welcome to leave. You know you're not supposed to be here without permission, Granger." He ran his hand through his hair as he said it, as if exasperated from attempting to keep her out of his room, and Hermione found she rather admired his acting skills.

"They think we've been writing each other," Hermione said, and he broke character to look at her with surprise. "Apparently, they couldn't think of another way for me to have formed an attachment to you without others discovering it. Of course, this means they'll want to see them. Making them will be easy enough… we could transfigure old homework to age them properly so they appear as if they've been sent throughout the year, but I haven't thought up an excuse to delay their delivery yet."

"What's she saying?" McGonagall asked.

Malfoy groaned and rubbed his face. "That you know that Granger and I wrote each other. I'm quite sorry to say that I can't share those right away. If you need to see some samples to verify the length of our relationship, I can bring them by tomorrow after I've had time to read through and remove those which contain sensitive information."

Hermione's eyes widened at his quick thinking. Malfoy snorted at her and raised his right eyebrow. "You can relax, Granger. Did you really think I was going to let them read every little embarrassing thing you ever wrote me?"

Hermione's jaw dropped, and she was torn between bursting into uncontrollable laughter at McGonagall's shocked expression and smacking Malfoy for his cheek. She couldn't feel too upset though. Malfoy's quick wit was helping fill the holes in her earlier Patronus testimony quite nicely. "You really are a Slytherin," Hermione said in awe after a moment.

Malfoy winked and grinned slyly at her, and Slughorn chortled. "Look at the two, Minerva! They're flirting as easily as any other young couple that ever batted eyes at each other." When Malfoy blanched and glared at Slughorn, the older man merely waved his hand at Malfoy to calm down. "Relax, boy. I'll keep your secret. I think it's a fine thing for you and Ms. Granger to join forces, and you would need to keep it quiet to protect her from your father." Slughorn's voice sobered and sighed. "Nothing personal, Malfoy, but your father's dangerous, and he hates muggleborns more than any other wizard I've met."

"I don't FEEL that way about Granger," Malfoy said with grounded teeth. His fists clenched, and Hermione half wondered if he would draw his wand.

McGonagall shook her head and stepped between the two. "Horace, why don't you take Malfoy's books and begin looking through them in my office. You know the password," she said. "_Wingardium Leviosa_," she added with a flourish of her wand, and the stack of books traveled over into Slughorn's arms.

"Right," Slughorn said, glancing at Malfoy briefly before making a quick exit.

"I'm sorry, Malfoy. Professor Slughorn really should know better than to tease you on such a controversial matter," McGonagall said.

"If word reaches EITHER of my parents," Malfoy said darkly.

McGonagall sighed. "I'll have Slughorn swear an oath not to repeat anything he's learned today in your room, and I think you can trust me not to gossip, correct?"

Malfoy relaxed slightly and glanced to Hermione. "McGonagall wouldn't gossip, Malfoy. She's not like that. We can write the letters in such a way to show your rejecting me too." Hermione looked away and wryly added, "It wouldn't be the first time I chased after a bloke who clearly wasn't interested in me."

Malfoy studied her with a strange expression for a moment before turning back to McGonagall. "I'll have the letters to you tomorrow. Now, if you're done here, I would like to speak with Hermione in private about what's just happened."

"Yes, of course, Mr. Malfoy," McGonagall said, moving towards the door.

"And Professor?" Malfoy added as McGonagall opened the door. She paused and looked to him. He took a deep breath. "Thank you for not letting it be Potter."

McGonagall smiled, nodded, and left his room in silence.


	16. Letters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas!

**Chapter 16 - Letters**

Hermione took a deep breath before knocking on Malfoy's door in the darkness of the Slytherin dungeons with her patronus at her side. Her attempt to cast _Lumos_ did nothing against whatever magic prevented her from seeing in that hallway, but her silver otter was quite visible and allowed Hermione to see well enough. It certainly was better than stumbling around in the dark in between stumbling into random rooms as she had done last time. Thankfully, she hadn't encountered anything too disturbing in the process.

Malfoy opened his door a crack, glanced at her, and opened it the rest of the way to let her in. "You have them?" he asked. He studied her patronus as she walked in and dismissed it.

Hermione nodded and patted her bag, which contained her notes from the year in addition to the fireworks. She had returned the books to Malfoy earlier, and the Marauder's map was safely back in her dresser within her room. "I was thinking it might be good if we wrote actual letters to each other on fresh parchment and exchanged them. Then we could transfigure the old notes to match." She held her hands together to still them. She did think this was the best plan, but a part of her wondered if this might also be an opportunity to cross the line from co-conspirators into friendship.

Malfoy grimaced. "I suppose they would look more natural that way." He moaned and dragged his hands down his face in his dismay, and while Hermione was slightly injured that he so strongly disliked the idea of writing her, she couldn't help but smile at how relaxed he had become with her. He would have never let himself appear so uncollected around her prior to the curse.

"I'm glad you agree," Hermione said. She bit her lip. "Now, who should go first?" she asked him.

Malfoy scoffed and put his hands in his pockets, leaning back against the door. "Come on, Granger, which of us do you think would be more likely to reach out to the other?"

Hermione sighed and moved to set her bag down beside his desk while she thought. "Neither of us are exactly the type to reach out without a reason, so the better question would be why would one of us reach out? Perhaps you needed my help with schoolwork?" she suggested.

Malfoy snorted. "I may not be as swotty as you, Hermione, but I'm perfectly capable of holding my own. Besides, if I needed to talk to a swot, I'd reach out to Theodore Nott. He and I may be on uneasy terms now, but he's too smart to pass up the chance of having me owe him a favor. Far better that than risk embarrassing myself with your refusal."

Hermione almost contested the suggestion that she would refuse to help him, but then she recalled how she had felt towards Malfoy even a few days ago. Would she have helped him? She was ashamed to realize she wasn't sure that she would, though normally she helped anyone who asked. "Right, then what would be worth that risk?" Hermione asked him. She stepped closer, crossed her arms, and stared up at him. He had his usual indolent expression on his face, but it did not annoy her like it had in the past. Now, he just seemed tired to her, and she felt bad for him.

Malfoy pursed his lips and looked up as he thought. When his intense eyes settled back on her, Hermione felt warm, as if his very stare generated heat within her. "Protecting my family. Had Potter not already defended my mother to the Wizengamot for her actions in the war, I may well have reached out, but even then, I would have contacted Potter, not yourself. In terms of influence, his voice carries more weight."

"So I would need a reason to contact you," Hermione said. She looked away from him to help clear her head as she thought. The warmth she felt was unexpected, but not very surprising, given that she had started thinking of him more as a friend than as an adversary. She paused, took a deep breath, and shook her head briefly to refocus. She looked back to him. "If I had seen you bullied, I would have intervened."

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Intervened, yes, but not written afterwards. I would also rather not draw more attention to the fact that I'm being targeted at school, Granger. It doesn't exactly help my image."

Hermione opened her mouth to object a moment before she remembered how much pride mattered to the Malfoys. Public sympathy was not worth being looked down upon, apparently. Hermione supposed she couldn't completely argue that. After all, she wore a charm to hide the word "mudblood" still carved into her arm. "Then what? It's not like I would ask for your money or your influence for anything," she pointed out.

"No," Malfoy said carefully and smirked at her. "But, I do have books."

"You have books?" Hermione said skeptically. "So do the library and the bookstore."

Malfoy raised his left eyebrow and stepped away from the door, uncrossing his arms in the process. "Come on, Granger. Surely with all the reading you do, you've heard of my family's private library. It's one of the best kept collections of the wizarding world."

Hermione quirked her mouth down, feeling her old antagonism towards Malfoy rise up as she recalled what sorts of things she expected the Malfoy family to value. "I'm not particularly interested in books on dark magic, Malfoy," Hermione pointed out with a stony expression.

Malfoy scowled. "There's a lot more to my family than dark magic, Granger. I won't deny that we have quite a collection of books on that topic. However, we have books on all sorts of things, including the personal journals of several famous wizards and witches."

That got Hermione's attention. "Like who?" she asked, stepping closer in her interest. Malfoy smirked, and Hermione realized he had made his point. There would be no backing out of this now. Hermione took a deep breath and sighed. "Okay, Malfoy. You're right. I might reach out to you for books I could get no other way." Hermione pursed her lips. "But which books?"

Malfoy shrugged, put his hands in his pockets, and tilted his head to the side. "Doesn't matter which books. Anything should do, so long as you can't easily find it elsewhere. Just pick something obscure you would read, claim you heard I have a copy, and write out a request for it. That's how you want to start this, right? With one of us reaching out to the other? Well, go on," he said, taking out a hand to gesture to his desk.

Hermione frowned at him, frustrated that he had so neatly come up with a solution that required her wanting something from him after making it painstakingly clear she had nothing to offer him. It hurt her pride, and it made her feel that much more pathetic for wishing they could be friends. "Right," she finally said, shoving her hurt and frustration aside to deal with the task at hand. She needed to do what she could to clear the suspicion on Malfoy. Her reasons may have shifted, somewhat, but not her objective.

Hermione sat down at the desk, pulled out the necessary parchment and quill, set the quill to the parchment, and froze. How did she address him? Hermione chewed her lip and realized she was overthinking this. She should address him the same way she did in person.

_Malfoy,_

_I understand your family library contains many books that cannot be found elsewhere. I am interested in learning more about how house-elves became servants of the wizarding community, and I wondered if you might help me in the matter._

Hermione paused there. The house-elf idea had come easily enough. She had been looking for such records at one point and been unable to find them. However, the note seemed off without some kind of acknowledgement of her history with Malfoy. She squeezed her eyes shut and held her head in her hands.

"What is it?" Malfoy asked, walking over to read what she had written.

"You wouldn't have bothered responding to this," Hermione groaned.

"Interesting, Granger. Last I checked, I was the one who decided what I would and would not do," Malfoy drawled. He picked the parchment up, scanned over it again, and looked to her. "It's passable. I'll respond."

Hermione peered up at him with wide eyes. "What?"

He frowned at her and waved the paper at her. "It's passable. I'll respond. However, I'll need my desk to respond, so unless you expect me to sit in your lap, you'll need to move."

Hermione lurched out of the chair so quickly she toppled to the ground with it. When she found herself awkwardly sprawled on the floor, she wondered why she had such a strong reaction to what was certainly said in jest. "Sorry," she mumbled with red cheeks as she scrambled to set the chair straight and stand up. She risked a glance at Malfoy and found him staring at her slack-jawed. The eye contact jarred him though, and he straightened up with a sneer.

"Seriously, Granger?" Malfoy said and crossed his arms in front of him. "I was joking. It's not like I want to touch you. You certainly don't have to hurt yourself and my furniture to escape me."

"Right," Hermione said, blushing more fiercely now and feeling fully mortified. She backed up against the wall and tried not to watch Malfoy write. Her heart pounded in her chest with anxiety. Even knowing this letter-exchange was a farce and it was in his best interests to respond favorably, she was afraid he would shoot her down or mock her as he had in the past.

"Done," he said after a moment.

Hermione's heart dropped to her stomach. "Already? But…"

Draco raised an eyebrow at her and stood up, pulling out the chair for her. "Relax, Granger. Just read and respond."

Hermione nodded and sat down, noting with surprise that Malfoy pushed it in for her. She looked down at the message Malfoy had left her.

_What's in it for me? - D.M._

Hermione blinked. Stared at it, and blinked again, shaking her head. "What's in it for…"

"You can do this, Granger," Malfoy said. He was stretched out on his bed now, tossing a replica snitch in the air and catching it. Granger's mouth twisted with frustration that he could be so at ease, but then she saw his jaw twitch, and she saw how tense he was underneath the relaxed activity.

"Of course. How do you think I should respond?" she asked him, hoping for some guidance on the matter. Her impulse was to chew him out for needing a motivation to help her and a marginalized species out, but she didn't expect that would have gone over well in reality.

Malfoy glanced at her briefly before returning his eyes to the snitch. "Just be yourself."

Hermione took a deep breath and faced the blank parchment again. "Alright then." She squeezed her eyes shut and thought about how she might have reacted. Indignant and frustrated. "I can do this," she said. She heard a murmured agreement of support from behind her and smiled at how preposterous her situation was now. To imagine that Malfoy would be encouraging her in, well, anything.

Hermione wrote.

_Seriously, Malfoy? Must everything have a price? You know I would return any books you loan me in perfect condition. Unless you simply object to my helping house-elves, you have no reason to stop me. - H.G._

She looked over it and sighed. "Your turn," she said simply and stood up. Malfoy rolled off the bed without a word, passed her the replica snitch, whose wings flapped without making it fly, and sat down at the desk. Hermione stared at the snitch in her hands with some confusion.

"Toss it. It helps pass the time," he said after he got in position to write.

Hermione's entire forehead lifted in surprise at the small gesture. "Er, thanks," she said, and experimentally tossed it a few inches and caught it. She had never done much with sports or any physical activity, really, beyond what was demanded to survive during the war. It was strange, playing with the snitch. It felt unnatural, but she was so shocked and thankful that Malfoy had thought of her comfort at all that she didn't want to turn her nose up at the suggestion by refusing to do it.

"Done," he said, getting up again. He stood up, held out a hand for the snitch, which she passed to him, and then pushed in her chair again for her as she sat.

_Actually, I do have some objections to your notion of helping house-elves. I'm well aware that the Hogwarts elves live in horror of you. However, I suppose helping you learn that their enslavement was on their terms and for their protection may spare the poor creatures from your continued misguided good intentions. - D.M._

"You can't possibly expect me to believe that they asked for enslavement," Hermione said, looking back at Malfoy, who sat on the edge of the bed studying the snitch.

"I have the books back at the Manor," Malfoy said. "Unfortunately, I cannot easily provide them or the time to read them tonight, so you will have to trust me about their contents."

Hermione frowned. "Why would you have read them?"

He looked up at her, paralyzing her with his silver eyes. "I looked up a great many things when I came to regret my part in the war. Wizards were culpable of many horrific crimes against other species, Granger. The house-elves, however, came to us willingly. Their immense power and servile natures made them the victims of many. I don't care to go into a full discussion on the issue this moment, Granger, but they asked for the oldest of the wizarding families to enslave them. In exchange for giving up their freedom, the wizards would swear to keep them in obscurity and together, so that the house-elves could live peaceful lives with their families intact." He paused a moment as Hermione took this in. "There's a reason you've never seen house-elves used in the wizarding wars, despite the ancient families having power over most of the house-elves. That was part of the agreement."

"But Dobby participated…"

"Dobby was a freed elf," Malfoy reminded her. He shuddered. "Imagine if all elves were able to break through wards like that whenever they wished to do what they wanted. No one would be safe, Granger, and the elves would be faced with awful responsibilities. The elves prefer things this way. They want to be forgotten and enslaved. Trust me."

Hermione trembled as she considered this angle. She felt like her entire foundation was crumbling as she realized she couldn't argue this. If they sought enslavement and obscurity specifically to avoid being targeted for even worse things… "I've been fighting for their rights for years, Malfoy," Hermione said in a shaky voice.

"I know, Granger," he said in a tired voice.

"It shouldn't be this way. They shouldn't have to live in fear of their power…"

"I know, Granger."

"It's not right, Malfoy!" Hermione complained.

"Write it out, Granger. That's the point of this exercise… to establish a correspondence in the past. Write it out like you would if you had read the book and needed to tell someone who knew the truth, even someone you found as detestable as myself."

Hermione swallowed her objections as she remembered why they were even discussing the house-elf rights in the first place. "Right, you're right," she said, but then frowned, tilting her head as she looked up at him. "You're not detestable though."

Malfoy scowled at her. "False flattery doesn't become you, Granger."

"It's not false, Malfoy," Hermione hissed. When he gave her an affronted expression, she sighed, letting go of her pride. She avoided his eyes and fiddled with the pleats of her skirt. "I did think you were pretty awful before all this happened, but you've been kind. At least, kinder than I would have expected." She faced him. "You're not bad."

Malfoy sneered at her for a moment, then looked away and scoffed. "I've bullied you into deceiving your friends about our relationship just to save my own skin. How is that kind?"

Hermione shrugged. She couldn't exactly tell Malfoy that she was far more furious with Ginny for being so closed-minded about the possibility of Malfoy changing. If Malfoy were still the old Malfoy, then convincing her friends she felt something for him would be genuinely horrifying, but as is? Well, Hermione did enjoy his company, strangely enough. He had been more understanding and thoughtful in their brief time working together than Harry and Ron usually were. Malfoy was still a prat in many ways, but her pride stung far more from his utter lack of interest in her than from having others perceive her interested in him.

"You're not bad, Malfoy," Hermione repeated in a defeated tone, and she got to work on her next letter to him.


	17. Delirium

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And back to our usual Friday posting schedule. I hope everyone had a lovely holiday!

**Chapter 17 - Delirium**

Hermione collapsed onto Malfoy's bed and stared at his ceiling as he took his turn writing to her at the desk. They had been at this for hours now, save for when she went upstairs to the Great Hall to bring down dinner for them both while Malfoy wrote. Their letters had become long and intricate. They now included challenges to long-held beliefs, teasing about both positive and negative traits they each had, especially the ones they shared, and the exploration of many ideas. It was a better correspondence than Hermione had ever had with anyone, including Viktor Krum.

"I'm done, and I think we've got enough," Malfoy said, breaking the silence. He stretched his arms up, rolled his neck, and rubbed his right shoulder. "Honestly, I don't think I could write more without resorting to magical aides." He glanced up to where Hermione was still stretched out on his bed. "Get up. I'm exhausted."

"Do I have to?" Hermione complained through a deep yawn. Malfoy stood up and poked her side, so she rolled over with the intention of getting up, but she was sleepy enough that she just settled back down instead. She felt the bed shift as Malfoy crawled on beside her, and she wondered if she had gone mad to not get up. The correspondence didn't mean they were suddenly friends, let alone the sort of friends who might fall asleep beside each other, and Hermione was well on her way to falling asleep. "What time is it?" she asked, trying to keep herself awake so she could right her circumstances.

"Quarter past eleven," Malfoy answered, his own voice sounding less sleepy, but equally tired. He rolled onto his side, leaned on his elbow to prop up his head, and faced her. "We still need to transfigure our old notes to match the letters… not to mention pick which letters we're sharing."

Hermione moaned and covered her eyes with her arm, wishing she could just sleep. "Let's do it in the morning," she muttered.

Hermione pouted as she felt Malfoy lift her arm away from her face and saw him look down at her. "Are you suggesting we skip class, Granger?" Malfoy asked her with a knowing smirk and a raised brow.

Hermione's eyes narrowed as fury coursed through her. She scowled, rolled away from him, and sat up on the opposite edge of the bed. "I need coffee," she stated.

"I think I have a potion for that," Malfoy said, getting up himself and rummaging through his wardrobe. He cast a quick incantation, and a drawer popped up from the bottom of it. A moment later, he carried over a large jug full of an iridescent caramel liquid and two shot glasses to his desk and set them down.

"Slughorn was looking for potions and the like," Hermione said. "He didn't find your drawer."

Malfoy raised an eyebrow at her before he filled the two glasses and handed one to her before downing his own. "Suppose I should tell him about it. Would make a good impression, and there's nothing too damning in there."

"What is this?" Hermione asked, sniffing the liquid. She didn't recognize it, which surprised her. Though Potions wasn't her favorite subject, she still had made an Outstanding in it on her OWLS. She knew her potions.

"Original concoction," Malfoy said. "Haven't named it yet, but it uses coffee alongside several more traditional potions ingredients to help a person stay awake and energized past hours. Perhaps another night I can show you my notes on it for discussion, but tonight I'm asking you to trust that it won't kill you and will help you stay awake to complete our task. Now drink."

Hermione stared at Malfoy for a long moment, weighing years of bullying and knowledge of his dark mark against the apparently reformed person in front of her who could hurt her easily if he wanted and hadn't. "You know, in the Order, Mad-Eye Moody would repeat 'constant vigilance' at us like a mantra. We had all these protection measures, and now I'm cursed because I put on a piece of jewelry without checking it first, and I'm considering drinking an unknown potion made by a former enemy whom I'm discovering I barely know."

Malfoy shifted his weight, watching her with the empty shot-glass in hand. He studied her rather than trying to talk her into it or teasing her for having gotten cursed.

Hermione frowned. "What do you see when you look at me?" she asked him. His silence was as frustrating as it was comforting. She didn't know how to react to someone who wasn't stumbling over himself to get all his words out.

"I see a very capable and competent witch who is far too tired to think clearly, and if I didn't absolutely need the transfigured letters by tomorrow morning, I would be sending you off to bed." Malfoy sighed and put his empty shot glass down. "As it stands, I feel compelled to remind you that I need your help in this matter, therefore I would not give you something that would jeopardize that. Now drink, please."

Hermione looked at him again, trying to reconcile this patient, respectful man in front of her with the cowardly, cruel prat she had known for years, shrugged, and downed the glass. Within seconds, she began to feel more awake, and her fatigue felt more distant. "That was fast," she remarked.

"I designed it to be fast," Malfoy said. He cast a quick _scourgify_ at the shot glasses and put both of them and the potion back in his wardrobe. "Now, we should have at least a handful of letters to produce from different times throughout the year." He sighed and looked at the thick stack of letters they had written that day. "Any thoughts on which ones?" he said.

Hermione walked over to stand beside him. "Are your notes dated? We could date the letters to correspond in order, so that the order matches. Then we can pick several over time to show." She frowned and bit her lip. "Harry's going to demand all of them though, you know."

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "You're probably right. Nosy git. Tell me, Granger, did Potter ever NOT stick his nose in something?"

Hermione thought back and sighed. "Maybe we should just focus on getting them all transfigured."

Malfoy groaned. "Well, better get to it then. Are your dated notes in order? We could cross-reference ours to see what will work for the letters to make sense."

"We will also need to make sure the source notes have at least as much ink as the corresponding letter would require. Removing ink is easy enough, but the aurors might notice if additional ink is added or the original ink is stretched thin," Hermione added.

Malfoy's brow rose, and he pursed his lips. "Good thinking. We need to count the letters first so we know how to space them over the time since term started."

Hermione frowned. "Just spring term?" she asked him.

He smiled with his brow still raised, suppressed laughter in his voice. "Do you think either of us would go the Christmas holiday without mentioning it?"

Hermione blinked with wide eyes as she realized he was right. Their letters had not addressed any of the holidays, and Hermione certainly wouldn't have passed up mentioning Christmas or at least the absence from regular correspondence. "Good point," she said sheepishly, smiling demurely back at him. He held her gaze, but his smile faded, and she felt the hairs on her arms rise. Hermione quickly turned back to the letters and picked up a stack of them to busy herself. Her heart raced, as if she had just narrowly avoided being hit with a curse, but she didn't know why.

Malfoy cleared his throat. "Okay, you count the letters, and I'll go through our notes and remove any from the stack that are too short on ink for transfiguration into our letters."

Malfoy sat down at the desk, and Hermione moved to the bed given the lack of other comfortable seating arrangements. The air was strangely tense, and Hermione feared the air might crackle in the silence, but she didn't dare speak. The letters they had exchanged had blurred over the lines of friendship, and while Hermione knew better than to assume they were friends now, she couldn't help but wonder if he wished to know her better too. Would they continue the conversations that began in their letters?

"Twenty-seven total," Hermione said when she finished counting. "Fourteen that I wrote, and thirteen from you."

"I'll need another minute. You write a lot of notes, Granger," Malfoy said. He was about three quarters through their combined pile of notes.

"Well, there's a lot I want to remember," she said, straightening her skirt over her legs. She glanced around the room for something to do, but her eyes fell back on Malfoy. The way he bent over the desk accentuated his back, and Hermione discovered she rather liked it. His hair was tousled in the back, and his neck was long and elegant. It was strange. For all that Hermione knew other girls had found Malfoy attractive, she had never noticed he was handsome before that moment.

"Done," Malfoy announced, jolting Hermione out of her revery. He stood up, took the letters she held without a word, and sat back down, placing them beside each other. "This would go a lot faster if we could both look on…" He frowned, took out his wand, and with a wave and a muttered word, he summoned a second chair identical to the one he sat in. "There you go," he said, gesturing to the chair even as he kept his eyes on the stacks of letters and notes on the desk.

With shaky hands, Hermione got down from the bed and sat down next to Malfoy. The chairs seemed too close, too intimate, somehow, as she felt his warm knee bump against her cool leg under the table. It was just chilly enough in there she half contemplated moving closer to maintain contact, but then she recalled that this was Malfoy, and he would not welcome such familiarity from her. "So what are we doing here?" she asked.

"Well, the first letter would be sometime after we came back from Christmas break, so we can use these notes, however…"

Hermione forgot to listen to his explanation as she caught sight of how the muscles in his neck moved when he spoke. This close, she could even see the blonde bristles forming on his cheeks, and she wondered what they would feel like under her hand.

"Granger?" Malfoy said, startling her.

"What?" she asked, blushing slightly.

He gave her an odd look. "Are you ready to get started?" he asked.

"Yes, of course," Hermione said, not even sure what he expected her to do. As it was, the task turned out to be simple. They aimed for approximately two letters a week, and they put each letter with the corresponding notes to be transfigured into two separate piles, one for each of them to transfigure later.

Hermione had an easier time focusing on their task once they were discussing it together, and she only found herself distracted by his appearance a few more times, but it was still rather unsettling. She supposed it was rather natural to notice when a friend was handsome. After all, she was well aware that several of her friends had grown quite attractive as they matured. However, Malfoy wasn't her friend yet, and she worried she paid too much attention to him, especially given their circumstances under the curse.

When they had gotten through the letters, Hermione picked up her transfiguration stack quickly and stood up, creating space between her and Malfoy like her life depended on it. "I can take care of this part in my room. There's no need for me to stay and keep you up."

Malfoy leaned his elbow on the desk and looked up at her with such a shrewd look that Hermione feared he saw right through her excuse to her discomfort. "I need these in the morning, Granger. I don't want to risk having them leave my sight."

Hermione blinked furiously, trying to find a logical reason for him to send her off, since it was clear he intended her to stay. "I am rather tired, Malfoy. What will you do if I fell asleep in your room?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Wake you, if you're not done with transfiguring those letters. I need them done tonight, remember?"

"And if I am too tired to return to my room when I'm done?" Hermione asked.

Malfoy stared at her a moment. "Put you to bed, I suppose." He smirked at her suddenly. "Don't worry. I won't hex your hair or draw on your face while you sleep."

Hermione forced a smile, but she trembled at the realization she would not get out of this. She needed space from Malfoy to clear her head and regain perspective. The letters, the sleep loss, the plotting together, and the proximity of this task were messing with her head. "Of course," she said after a moment, reconciling herself to taking a long, healthy break from Malfoy once this step was done. "Then again, I can't promise the same," she said as she slid back into the seat beside him.

Malfoy's glance of alarm helped soothe her rattled nerves a little, at least.


	18. Rejection

**Chapter 18 - Rejection**

Hermione had completed transfiguration of about a quarter of her pile of letters when she realized something. She straightened slightly and gasped softly. Beside her, Malfoy glanced up from his own work to stare, clearly waiting for her to speak. "We've made a mistake," she said. His eyes narrowed just slightly, and she sighed, knowing he expected her to elaborate. "These letters… they establish that we were writing each other, but that won't be enough."

Malfoy frowned slightly in confusion and then cringed as he realized what she meant. "You're right. We're friendly enough in them, I suppose, but no one reading these would assume you fancied me."

Hermione hung her head in her hands. "I'll have to write a confession, and you'll have to reject me, of course." She bit her lip, studying the desk in front of them a moment, then reached out for a fresh piece of parchment. "I'll get started."

Malfoy raised his right brow at her and smirked. "I never thought you would be so eager to write a confession to me, Granger," he teased.

"Shut it. I'm nervous enough as is. I have no idea what I'm doing. I've never written a confession in my life," Hermione fussed, looking down at the blank parchment with trepidation. "I've never confessed at all. How does one start?"

Malfoy gaped. "How'd you end up with those blokes then? Krum? McLaggen? Weasley?" he asked her, ignoring her question.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Really, I didn't know you paid such close attention to my love life, Malfoy. They asked me, of course. What of you? Have you got any experience in this?"

Malfoy snorted. "Malfoys don't confess."

Hermione raised an eyebrow and looked at him. "Too afraid of rejection?" she asked him. Malfoy merely glared at her. Hermione smiled down at him.

"What's your excuse then, Granger?" Malfoy asked, sneering at her.

Hermione looked back down to the empty sheet of parchment and cleared her throat. "My studies were more important."

"Riiiiight," Malfoy said dryly. "Well, go on, confess your fascination for me so that I can get about rejecting you."

"You really know how to inspire a girl's affection, Malfoy," Hermione said. The corner of her mouth twitched downward as she tried to figure out what to write. Did she address him as Malfoy even in a confession? "This will make it look like I was cheating on Ron," she realized out loud.

Malfoy shrugged. "He was planning to break up with you anyway, Granger."

Hermione scowled at him. "That's not the point, Malfoy. I'm not the kind of coward who would start something new without ending my prior relationship."

Malfoy blinked at her and tilted his head slightly, scanning her as if he never quite saw her before. "I suppose that does rather fit with the Gryffindor bravery model." He leaned forward onto the desk, putting himself more into Hermione's space than she was entirely comfortable with, and tapped his jaw. After a moment, he froze and slyly glanced up at her, a wicked gleam in his eyes. "That's it."

"What's it?" Hermione asked, not at all certain what Malfoy was about.

"Your confession," he said, splaying a hand out toward her with the palm up. "You didn't outwardly flirt in the letters because you were committed to Ron, but you found you couldn't resist me and my delectable arse, and therefore your confession was that you would be breaking up with Weasley when he came to visit and hoped to speak with me afterward."

Hermione rolled her eyes at his inclusion of his arse, but his idea had merit. She found herself leaning forward on the desk as well, elbows touching Malfoy's. "So I wouldn't be seen as cheating that way, and Ron would be led to believe I had been planning to dump him at the same time he ended up dumping me." The corners of Hermione's lips curled up, and she tilted her head to face Malfoy's. "I can't argue it's tempting," she said, looking into his clever silver eyes. He was very close, and his warmth drew her to close her eyes and lean in just a hair.

She felt his warmth withdraw, and she sighed slightly as she opened her eyes to see him leaning back against his chair and studying her with intense curiosity. "Well," he said and cleared his throat. "If there's no argument, let's go with it. We need this done tonight, remember?"

"Right, sorry," Hermione said. She looked back down at the parchment, wrapped her head around the idea that this confession would be a first disclosure of intention regarding her feelings and breaking up with Ron, and set to work.

_Malfoy,_

_I loved your input on the vampire crisis in the East. I definitely need to read more on the subject to catch up with you, and I hope you will be kind enough to loan me some of the books you referenced from your private collection._

_However, I must confess my mind is elsewhere as I write you and has been for a few weeks now. The more we correspond, the more I wish we could spend time together in person as well. I've come to feel rather strongly about you, Malfoy. I hope you will do me the honor of hearing me out following dinner on the anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts. I will be explaining things to Ron first, of course. Regardless of your response, it's clear that things there are over and have been for some time._

_I think of you constantly, Draco. Please tell me I'm not the only one,_

_Hermione_

Hermione stared at the drying ink on the parchment in front of her and felt something hot and fiery pass through her and nest near her womb. The letter felt too authentic, and she trembled as she realized Malfoy would have to read it with her present and reject her.

"You're done?" he asked her. The vibrations of his voice set every nerve on fire, and she wished he had more to say at the same time that she desperately wanted to escape. She knew these feelings. She shouldn't have them for Malfoy just because they worked together for a single night. Wordlessly, she nodded and passed the piece of parchment to him. After he took it, she debated whether getting up and moving away from him might help. However, she recalled that would mean moving back towards him after, which would likely throw her even more off, perhaps even in ways he couldn't help but notice.

Beside her, Malfoy read the letter with care, and then he read it again, frowning. His ears colored, and he took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Alright then. My turn to respond," he said. His hand trembled as he reached for the quill in Hermione's hand, and they both inhaled sharply when their knuckles brushed each other in the process. "Sorry," Malfoy muttered, then he got to work.

Hermione didn't dare look at him or his writing while she heard the scribble of the quill against the parchment. She was intensely aware of him, and she wondered now if this weren't also a component of the curse. Perhaps not an intended symptom, but rather a natural side effect. After all, if she couldn't break free, Malfoy would be the only person she could ever interact with physically. However, she also knew there was more to it. She had little doubt that she wouldn't be so affected by most men in this position.

She really just needed space to clear her head… or perhaps a swift slap in the face to free her from her lunacy.

"Done," Malfoy said with a crack in his voice. He handed her the parchment, and Hermione took it with trembling hands.

_Granger,_

_While I wholeheartedly support your emancipation from all things Weasley and greatly enjoy our penned discussions, I am not interested in more than correspondence from you. I hope you will not take my rejection too bitterly to continue our discussion on the vampire crisis after you have received the opportunity to read my books on the matter._

_-D.M._

Hermione gaped at the letter. She had known to expect a rejection. The whole point of the exercise was to build evidence that she had felt something unrequited for Malfoy, but she never expected her fake feelings to be so concisely tossed aside without insult or cruelty. Hermione had realized Malfoy was clever enough, but she felt she had never before properly recognized his skill for deftly dealing with difficult interpersonal circumstances.

"What was it like living with Lord Voldemort in your home?" she found herself asking. She had wondered before how the youngest Malfoy had endured such extreme circumstances, but she felt like she had gotten her first glimpse into an entirely new perspective on it, and she was ravenous for more.

"What?" Malfoy said. He pulled his letter back, scanned back over it with furrowed eyes, and then turned those perplexed eyes to Hermione. "How do you get from receiving a letter of rejection to asking me about one of the darkest times of my life?"

Hermione felt the blood drain from her face as she realized how awkward her question had been, not to mention that Malfoy had absolutely zero reason to answer her. "Sorry. My mind wandered," she said and then looked back at his letter. "Perhaps we should get back to letter transfiguration? I expect the additions should be plenty to calm most suspicions directed towards you in the matter of my curse."

"Alright with me," Malfoy huffed, turning his shoulder on her to focus on his own letters.

Hermione stared at the shape of his jaw for a moment before getting back to work on transforming her own notes into the letters she had written. As she progressed through them, she realized with a sinking feeling that she should have been more convincing in her efforts to appear interested in Malfoy romantically. Nothing in the letters was particularly embarrassing or humiliating, as Malfoy had hinted to McGonagall.

"Salazar," Malfoy cursed. "I can practically hear your over-thinking," Malfoy said without turning around or pausing in his own work. "What now?"

"Umm, I was wondering if I should try to flirt more in the letters, so that it's more convincing for anyone who reads these," Hermione said.

Malfoy put his quill down, cracked his neck, and twisted his head to look at her. "You want this to be convincing? How do you think they'll react if you suddenly start flirting with me in the middle of the letters?"

Hermione's mouth opened and closed as she tried to object. "But you told McGonagall…"

Malfoy shrugged. "I can always claim that your most recent letter and behavior colored my memory of prior communications. Relax, Granger. If you're too Gryffindor about it, they'll never believe it."

"Too Gryffindor?" Hermione asked him in a flat voice.

Malfoy stretched his arms up before answering, and Hermione was frustrated to realize she rather liked the view. Then again, why shouldn't she? She was a single witch, and he was not nearly as bad as she had thought him.

"Yes," he said, looking at her peculiarly before pulling his arms back down. "Too Gryffindor. Too bold. Too obvious. It's fine for battle, but when you are trying to bend minds, you need subtlety, Granger."

Hermione snorted. "You sound like Snape."

Malfoy narrowed his eyes at her, and Hermione got the distinct impression she had said or done something wrong, but she had no idea how to correct it. She looked down and away from Malfoy. "Right, so subtlety works better for convincing people of new ideas?" she said, hoping he would speak again and return the balance they had prior to when she had opened her mouth.

Malfoy sighed heavily. "You really have no people skills, do you, Granger." It wasn't a question, and Hermione found herself staring at Malfoy much like a deer in headlights. He returned her gaze coolly. "Tell me this: With Potter and Weasley away from school, how many friends have you made?"

Hermione scowled. "You're one to talk. You've been isolated too."

Malfoy inclined his head to her slightly. "True, but I'm a villain according to most. I have my family history, my actions, and the mark on my arm to condemn me. You, however, are a heroine. The golden girl who stood beside the Boy Who Lived. People would flank to your side if you so much as acknowledged them, but you don't, do you?"

Hermione glared at him, already regretting she had ever considered him attractive. "I was trying to help you, but if all you're going to do is mock me for not having more friends, I can leave." Hermione slammed her chair back and moved to stand up when a firm, long, bony hand captured her wrist.

"Stay, Granger. I'm sorry I teased you. Please stay," Malfoy said. Hermione hesitated, then slunk back into her seat with a heavy sigh. "Thank you," Malfoy said, releasing her wrist tenderly.

Hermione's eyes watered, blurring her vision. She had come to want friendship with Malfoy earlier that day following their encounter with Ginny, and then the letters… They had been so engaging that Hermione had half-forgotten that they were meant to convince others of her fascination with him, and she had kept noticing him in ways she didn't normally notice boys unless… Hermione sighed. She must be losing her mind.

"Do I want to know?" Malfoy asked.

Hermione shook her head. She wasn't about to tell Malfoy that she had been thinking about him. Then again, he had apologized for teasing her. "Why do you want me to stay?" she asked, hoping to make sense of his actions from whatever answer he gave. If he said he just wanted her to help with the work, she could tuck him neatly back away under the 'selfish git' category in her mind. If he responded that he wanted her company, well, that would make things more complicated, but at least she would feel less absurd for having been interested in him.

Malfoy studied her for a long moment, taking in her entire face. He looked back at his own work, closed his eyes a moment, and started transfiguration again without answering her.

"Malfoy?" Hermione asked after a minute passed without a response. It wasn't that she wasn't used to being ignored, but normally it was because others were too excited talking together. Having someone intentionally not respond was new territory for her.

Malfoy sighed. "Just stay, Granger."

Hermione opened her mouth to ask a thousand questions, but then she remembered that Malfoy was not Ron or Harry. If Malfoy didn't want to tell her why, he wouldn't. Frustration exploded within her, and she practically sizzled as she grabbed the next letter in her stack for transfiguration. "You are infuriating, Malfoy, but I'm staying," she fussed.

Malfoy glanced up at her almost shyly, and a small smile lit his face up. "Thanks, Granger."

Hermione scowled at him and went back to work.


	19. Bedtime

**Chapter 19 - Bedtime**

Hermione moaned as she finished transfiguration of the note in front of her and blindly reached for the next one. When her hand met the hard grain of polished wood instead of the soft velvet texture of parchment, Hermione blinked and looked up with bleary eyes at the space where her share of their work had been piled up. No letters remained for transfiguration. She was done. Next to her arm, Malfoy's head rested on the table, facing away from her. When had he put his head down? She hadn't even noticed.

"Malfoy?" Hermione said, her voice cracking from disuse and fatigue.

"Hrmm?" he responded, shifting slightly before resettling.

Hermione scanned the desk. They hadn't talked much since he had asked her to stay. She had been too frustrated with him to bother, and Malfoy hadn't shown interest in more conversation. At least his pile was done, so she didn't need to wake him for that. They were both done.

Hermione sighed. What was she supposed to do now? She felt like death after everything that had happened the last few days, and then she had pushed herself to stay up… half the night? All night? What time was it? Hermione reached into her robes to pull out her timepiece, a birthday gift from Harry following the war. She stared at it, frowned, then looked at it again. It was past five in the morning. If she went upstairs now, she wouldn't be able to settle down again before it was time to get up for class.

Hermione reviewed her options. Going back to her room would either mean sleeping through morning classes or not getting any rest at all. Hermione wasn't sure which was worse. She hated missing class, but she had drained so much of her magic working on these letters that she didn't see what use she would be without sleep before class. She would have to rest here.

Malfoy was already asleep, thankfully, so Hermione didn't have to face the awkward embarrassment of asking him if she could sleep in his room… or risk having him reject her. She did briefly consider trying another dormitory in Slytherin or even its common room, but she wasn't sure her nerves could handle risking the shock of waking up to find someone occupying the same space she was. At least Malfoy knew where she was to avoid her.

Hermione looked around his room. The only real options for sleeping were his bed and his desk, and he was already occupying his desk. Hermione cringed. Sleeping in his bed was definitely an invasion of… well, something… and yet, at least there they would not be touching. If she fell asleep at his desk, they would only be inches from each other. Hermione chewed her bottom lip. Perhaps she could just pull his bedding onto the floor and sleep there instead? Or maybe skip the bedding entirely? But the large bed left little floor space, and she was very likely to wake up under Malfoy's foot if she tried to use it for rest.

And besides, hadn't Malfoy said something about putting her to bed if she fell asleep there? Wasn't that like having permission? At least a little?

Hermione slowly pulled herself away from the desk and climbed onto Malfoy's bed, kicking off her shoes and removing her uniform's tie on the way. She had sat there enough tonight and nearly fallen asleep on it once already, so she wasn't as nervous as she might have been otherwise, and yet, she was nervous. This was her first time intending to sleep on Malfoy's bed, and she still didn't know where she stood with him.

Hermione eyed his green duvet with silver embroidery and debated whether to sleep on or under it. Which was worse? An unwelcome shiver from the cold decided for her. Hermione crawled under his blankets, hoping like crazy he wouldn't wake before she did. Since she was under the covers anyway, she made another decision in the name of comfort to unlatch her bra and pull it out through her sleeve to tuck into a pocket in her robes, which she spread over the duvet like an extra blanket. Malfoy would never know, and Hermione would sleep much better without it on.

Hermione used her wand to dim the lights in the room, closed her eyes, and fell asleep.

Malfoy followed Hermione in her dreams that night. In some, they worked together on various projects. In others, they competed. In one, he smiled proudly at her as she gave her first speech after becoming Minister of Magic. In another, he laughed at her while Bellatrix tortured Hermione with the Cruciatus Curse and house elves glared at her. It was all jumbled and contrary, and when the shifting of the bed ripped Hermione out of sleep in the middle of it, she bolted upright, gasping.

"Granger?" Malfoy said from close by. "Are you okay?"

Hermione flinched, trying to separate the chaotic Malfoy of her sleep from the flesh-and-blood Malfoy in bed next to her. Hermione frowned. He was in bed next to her, halfway under the duvet. Her head cleared in an instant as she went on high alert. Would he kick her out now? Mock her for taking comfort in his room? "Why are you in bed?" she asked him when she realized he was waiting on her to respond.

Malfoy snorted softly. "It's my bed, Granger," he answered with a small smirk on his lips.

"Yes," Hermione said slowly as her mind attempted to make sense of the situation. "But you had been sleeping at your desk. I didn't think that you would be needing your bed tonight."

"My neck is killing me. I'm not about to go back to the desk. You're welcome to it, if you like," Malfoy said with a sigh, sliding fully under the sheets and turning his back on her. He rolled his neck and groaned in discomfort before twisting back to face her. "You know a lot. Would you happen to know any spells that would help my neck?"

Hermione shook her head. Episkey wouldn't repair what wasn't broken, and she really didn't know much else for healing. Hogwarts seemed to rely heavily on Madam Pomfrey rather than teaching students how to manage their own mishaps. "I could…" Hermione trailed off. She had nearly offered to massage it, like she might have for Ron or Harry, but this was Malfoy.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow at her. "Could what? Whatever it is, if it helps, do it."

Hermione shrunk back. Surely he didn't want her rubbing his neck, did he? And in his bed, no less? "Perhaps I better not," she said weakly. "I am rather tired, after all."

"Dragon's snot," Malfoy said, calling her out on her excuse. "Granger, I'll pay you 50 galleons to do whatever it is you're avoiding right now to help my neck."

Hermione glared at him. "I don't need your money!" she said, affronted that he thought he had to pay her to get her to help him.

"Then give it to a charity! Just help me out, Granger. My neck is killing me!"

"Fine!" Hermione snapped. "I'm going to massage it. If I can loosen the muscles enough, it should help relieve the pain. Now if you still want me to do it, sit up," she instructed. As she suspected, he didn't move. She didn't think he would be so desperate for relief that he would ask a muggleborn to put her hands on him.

"If the goal is to help my muscles relax, wouldn't sitting up make things more difficult?" he asked after a moment's time. He shifted to rest on his stomach with his head turned sideways on the pillow. "I expect this is a much better position for that."

"What?" Hermione said. He was right, of course, but if he didn't sit up, then she wouldn't be able to comfortably reach his neck on the bed without straddling him. She had done it for Ginny a time or two following rough Quidditch games this past year, but never a man… "Malfoy, if you want me to massage your neck in that position, I would have to sit on you," she said, hoping this would clear things up enough to have him change position.

"Granger, my neck _really_ hurts," Malfoy said in response. "I understand that touching a former Death Eater might be scary, but I'm just asking for help."

"I'm not scared of you!" Hermione protested.

"Well, go on then," Malfoy said in a voice that left no room for debate. Hermione practically growled in frustration as she climbed out from under the duvet and moved to straddle Malfoy's back. "Oh wait," he said as she started to climb onto him. "Forgot one more thing," he said. He sat up, quickly yanked off the undershirt he had been wearing, and tossed it aside, leaving his chest bare. "Wouldn't want the fabric to get in the way." He returned to his previous position on his stomach, leaving Hermione to gawk at his naked back.

"You didn't need to remove your shirt for me to rub your neck," she protested. She had been thinking too much about him already that evening. She did NOT need more of him to think about.

"Whole back hurts too though. You may as well just massage it all," Malfoy said and closed his eyes.

Hermione gaped at him. All thoughts of attraction fled at his attitude. How on earth could he be so presumptuous and conceited as to assume she would just climb on top of him when he was half-undressed to massage not just his neck, but also his back, when she had barely had an hour of sleep and stayed up most of the night using her magic to help him stay out of Azkaban? An idea kindled in Hermione's mind, and she smirked. She was going to make him regret this.

"Anytime now would be nice, Granger," Malfoy said.

Hermione fumed, but she kept her silence. Taking care to keep her skirt between her and Malfoy's skin, she swung her leg over him and straddled his lower back. She studied him as she considered her options for payback. He did have a very nice back, she supposed. It almost made her feel guilty for what she was considering. Her wand was out of reach, but she didn't need its guidance for the spell she wanted. Quietly, so Malfoy wouldn't hear her, she whispered the words to make her touch ice cold, and then she dug into the flesh of his neck without warning.

"Agh!" Malfoy cried out, contorting from the discomfort and nearly knocking her off him as he twisted to swipe her hands off his neck. "What the hell, Granger?"

"Sorry," she said cheerfully. "Cold hands. Perhaps they'll warm up as I work?"

Malfoy grabbed his wand off his nightstand and quickly muttered a spell to warm her fingers to more comfortable temperatures. Without another word, he settled back down into position with his face to the side so that he could look back at her. "Continue," he said. He closed his eyes and rolled his shoulders, as if to suggest she hurry up.

Hermione pursed her lips, wondering what to do next to thwart his relief. If he had just asked nicely and cooperated, she would have been… well, perhaps not happy to help him. He really had infuriated her earlier with his comments about her poor social skills, not to mention she really wanted space from him to clear her head, but she would at least have been considerate of his needs. However, with his current attitude, she was far more interested in annoying him. "You know, I'm not sure I quite know what to do," Hermione lied, figuring she could always just horribly misinterpret any instructions he gave her.

Malfoy snorted. "Of course not." He opened his eyes, and they gleamed as he stared at her. "Would you like me to show you?"

"I'm sure I can figure things out if you just talk me through it," Hermione said primly.

"Afraid of a little hands-on instruction, Granger?" Malfoy taunted with a raised brow.

Hermione bristled with fury. She knew he was baiting her, but her pride wouldn't let her admit to cowardice, and the only retorts she could think of were likely to get her kicked out. Furthermore, her own shoulders also hurt from the hours spent bent over his desk working, and he was essentially offering to give her a massage. "I suppose a little hands-on instruction wouldn't be too awful," she conceded. "I'll be sitting upright for your instruction though, and I'll keep my shirt on."

"Alright then," Malfoy said. Hermione climbed off his back and sat facing away from him. Goosebumps formed along her limbs without the warmth of his body or the duvet, and the thin fabric of her white blouse scraped against her bare breasts. Horrified, Hermione looked down to discover her blouse did little to conceal what was underneath. Had Malfoy noticed? "I'm going to put my robe back on," she said in a shaky voice.

"For a neck and back massage?" Malfoy asked incredulously. "Are you certain you're not afraid?"

"I'm cold," Hermione said truthfully.

"That's easy to fix," Malfoy said. He grabbed his wand, cast the same warming charm from earlier over her whole person this time, cast a second spell that tied her hair up off her neck, and then scooted until he was close behind her. "How are you feeling?"

The spell had helped. Hermione now felt comfortably toasty without more clothes on, and with Malfoy directly behind her, he wasn't likely to notice her chest for the moment, at least. Still, she was exhausted. She wanted to go back to sleep. "Just get it over with, Malfoy."

"If you insist," he said, and he got to work. He set his hands on either side of her neck and rubbed firm, small circles at the base of her skull underneath her hair. Hermione gasped in surprise at the gentle invasion and fought not to moan in response to his touch as he worked his way down her neck and into her shoulders. He used more force there, occasionally switching to the heel of his hand to apply force. Hermione whimpered as he found one of the knots in her back and worked to free it. Malfoy didn't comment on her reaction, and Hermione found herself forgiving him a little for his earlier attitude.

He paused when he reached the area below her shoulder blades, then went over the area more carefully with his fingertips, as if searching for something. He stopped with one finger left on her back where her bra strap would normally fall. Hermione stiffened as she realized what had gotten his attention. "Umm, this wasn't planned. I meant to get dressed appropriately before getting up. They hurt to sleep in, you know."

Malfoy cleared his throat, and his finger slid absently down her back, inspiring goosebumps on Hermione's arms. "I can imagine," Malfoy said. He leaned away a moment, and then Hermione found her school robe draped around her front, leaving her back open. "Relax, Granger. I know you weren't getting undressed for me." He returned his hands to her back and hesitated. "Do you want me to stop?" he asked softly.

Hermione shivered at the proximity of his voice. Logically, she knew she should tell him to stop and let her sleep before she got any more entangled with him. She had been lonely for a long time, however, and his touch felt so very nice. Ginny was the only one she really had physical contact with lately, and Ginny wasn't, well… Ginny wasn't a man. Perhaps for this one night, Hermione could allow herself to indulge. After all, a back massage wasn't something to feel guilty about, was it? This didn't mean anything. It was a matter of practical comfort and pain relief.

"Granger?" Malfoy said, and Hermione realized she hadn't answered him.

Hermione knew this shouldn't be a big deal, but her cheeks still burned, and her nerves felt like a current was running between them when she answered him. "I could use more instruction," she said. Her voice sounded pathetic to her, and she hugged herself under her robe, warding herself against teasing or backlash.

Malfoy exhaled softly behind her and returned to work, gently but firmly making his way down the rest of her back. When he found a knot, he took extra time to work it out, and then he moved on. Hermione found herself wondering when Malfoy had cause to learn how to give massages. He was far better than Harry and Ron at it. Of course, Harry would get distracted five ways during the process, and Ron just never made a proper effort. Ginny had good technique, at least, but Malfoy's larger hands definitely felt better on her back. Had the hands belonged to anyone other than Malfoy, she probably could have closed her eyes and forgotten where she was. As it stood, she was far too aware of Malfoy for that to happen.

After Malfoy reached the base of her back, he flattened his hands over her shirt and ran them up her back to her shoulders and back down to the base of her back. "Any questions?" he asked her, leaving his hands resting lightly on her hips.

"No," Hermione said, shaking her head. "Thank you. I think I understand what to do now," she added after recalling the premise under which they had agreed for him to massage her.

"Glad to hear it," he said. He took a deep breath, scooted away to a respectable distance on the bed, and sighed. "If you intend to stay, I have something to help you." Hermione frowned, narrowed her eyes, and twisted to look behind her at Malfoy, wondering what he was up to now. His expression was open, and if anything, he seemed a little embarrassed. "Well, you can't exactly help my back if you're worried about revealing yourself the whole time. You'll need your hands free." He grabbed his wand and pointed it at his wardrobe. "_Accio _Quidditch shirt," he said. The wardrobe doors flew open, and a green Quidditch shirt flew out to him. He caught it with his free hand and offered it to Hermione. "It's from sixth year, so it should be a better fit than my other clothes. It's… less thin and white than your blouse, and should be more comfortable to sleep in as well. No buttons, after all."

Hermione gaped at him. She had never seen him stammering like he was now, but she couldn't just accept his shirt for sleeping. That was something couples did, and she and Malfoy weren't like that at all. Furthermore, Malfoy had no private bathroom. Hermione blushed. "I couldn't. Where would I get changed?"

Malfoy scoffed and his eyes went wide, looking much more like the usual mocking Malfoy she was familiar with. "I am capable of turning away and closing my eyes, Granger, but failing that, you can always step into the hallway or another room. Do recall that I am the only person here who can see you. You could prance about the Great Hall stark naked while I was down here and no one would know about it."

Hermione's blush deepened, and Malfoy rolled his eyes at her. "Don't be so stubborn, Granger." He found the neck hole of the shirt and shoved it over her head without ceremony. "You helped me a lot with the letters. I'm just showing my thanks." He shrugged. "It's not like we have to worry about anyone else ever knowing you wore it, if that's what you're worried about."

"Right," Hermione said, taking a deep breath and letting it out. She pulled his shirt down over her torso, slipped off the robe underneath, and proceeded to unbutton her blouse there too. Malfoy watched with an easy curiosity, but he couldn't see anything more than the motions of her hands through his Quidditch shirt, so she didn't think much of it. When the blouse was fully removed underneath, she then pushed her arms through the shorts sleeves of the Quidditch shirt. The cursed bracelet jingled as it fell down her left arm to her wrist, surprising her. She had forgotten it was there. "Right. I should put my clothes away, I suppose," she muttered. She climbed off the bed, stretched her arms and back, and moved her blouse and robe to his desk, neatly folding each item on the way. She wiped her hands on her skirt after and eyed her neat pile of clothes stacked next to their two neat piles of fake letters. "There. That's better," she said and turned to face him.

"Happy to hear it," he said with little sincerity. "Not to be rude, Granger, but my neck still really hurts. Do you mind?"

Hermione closed her eyes in frustration at his snotty tone, but she shook her head. He had helped her with her back and provided her a more appropriate shirt to sleep in. "Lie back down. I'll do what I can."

"Thanks, Granger." Malfoy crawled back on his stomach under the duvet, leaving it pulled back just below his waistline. He had dark green pajama pants on instead of his usual school pants, and Hermione found herself wondering when he had changed them. She must have been asleep. Apparently she had not been the only one desperate for comfort.

Climbing onto a bed that contained a waiting Malfoy was even more nerve-wracking than her previous venture into his bed. She had agreed to help him, however, and she refused to give him room to call her a coward again. Hermione took a deep breath, exhaled, and crawled back onto the bed and into position on Malfoy's back to massage him. The relatively cooler skin of his back made contact with the skin of her much warmer inner thigh, and she squeaked in alarm before quickly adjusting her skirts to block further skin-on-skin intimacy. "Sorry," she muttered and risked a glance at his reaction. His head was twisted sideways to look back at her, but his expression did not reveal his thoughts. Mortified, Hermione set to work on his neck, attempting to mimic the massage he had given her.

The hair at the nape of his neck was much softer than she had expected. Of course, he was overdue a haircut by her standards, so she supposed it made sense that she would not feel the bristled texture of a freshly shaven cut, but it surprised her all the same. Soft was not a word she had associated with Malfoy before. His neck was strong, warm, and firm under her hands, though she could feel how tense his muscles were. The entire area was practically one giant knot, far worse than anything she had worked free for Ginny. She tried to dig into it the same way he had dug into her knots, but she rather suspected she was doing it wrong when he flinched underneath her with each attempt.

"Maybe you should just move on," Malfoy said after a couple minutes of enduring her failed attempts to work free the knotted mass of muscle.

Hermione blushed. "I am trying now," she said, mortified that she couldn't do more to help him. "Your back is in really bad shape, Malfoy. Maybe Madam Pomfrey…"

"No," he said, cutting her off. "I can't let anyone else know I'm suffering. The curse is the only reason I'm letting you find out. You couldn't talk if you wanted."

Hermione gave him an incredulous look. "I don't think getting proper help for your back will have any repercussions other than your back not hurting, Malfoy." Frowning, she tried to tackle the knotted mass of the muscles on his left shoulder. "How did it get this bad? How long have you been like this?"

Malfoy ignored her questions. "Image is everything for old wizarding blood, Granger. You're muggleborn. Of course, you don't get it," Malfoy grumbled.

Hermione snorted. "First off, your back is likely the least of problems where your image is concerned. Second off, Madam Pomfrey keeps her mouth shut. You wouldn't believe the number of mortifying things she's fixed for Harry, Ron, and me, and she's never said a word to another soul."

Malfoy twisted up and partially on his side to look at her better, nearly dislodging Hermione in the process. "Like what?" he asked. "And how do you know she didn't speak to anyone?"

Hermione readjusted her seat and skirts and smirked at him. "For all that Snape was an excellent professor, he was incredibly childish when it came to teasing Harry, Ron, and myself. There is no way he would have passed up the opportunity to allude to our hospital incidents had he known."

"Hmm," Malfoy said with a thoughtful expression. "She never did let on that my injury from that hippogriff was completely healed before I ever left the hospital wing."

"I knew it!" Hermione exclaimed and moved to thump his lower back soundly for his former cheek. The curse intervened, however, and Hermione found her arm sliding forward on a pocket of air and carrying her with it. "Oof," she grumbled as she landed with her face pressed against the spot where Malfoy's neck met the back of his shoulder. Malfoy crashed back down on his belly with his head facing the same side Hermione's head was pressed against.

"Not that I'm necessarily against having a reasonably attractive witch throw herself at me, but what on earth, Granger?"

Hermione turned her head to the side and spat out the hair that had gotten lodged in her mouth during her fall. "Stupid curse. Was trying to hit you. Fell instead," Hermione muttered without bothering to get up. She was exhausted, he made for an oddly comfortable mattress, and she didn't feel like humiliating herself quite yet by tumbling off him. Her brow furrowed as she realized everything he had said. "You think I'm attractive?"

"Your figure is decent, your skin is mostly unblemished, and while your hair resembles an owl nest, at least it's clean and smells nice. Only real problem is your loud mouth and your tendency to ask endless questions," Malfoy said with such an aloof voice Hermione knew he was trying to annoy her.

Hermione pulled her arm back to whack him again, but stopped herself. The curse wouldn't let her cause him harm, even superficial harm, clearly, as her attempt to hit him was not meant to actually hurt him. Her options for retaliation were limited. She supposed she could probably get away with tickling him, but did she really want to go there with Malfoy?

"What? Not going to punch me like you did in third year?" Malfoy goaded, half laughing under her. His chest rumbled beneath her.

Hermione scowled. That settled it. She was determined to put him back in his place. If tickling was the only way to do that, then so be it. Hermione carefully lowered her arms until her hands were casually placed on either side of his ribs. "Malfoy, would you happen to be ticklish?" she asked him innocently. She waited to see his eyes widen in horror, and she struck, dancing her fingertips across the sensitive flesh over his ribs.

Malfoy contorted beneath her as he burst into uncontrollable laughter. Within moments, he heaved himself up, knocking Hermione off sideways onto her back, and jumped on top of her hips, effectively pinning her in place. Hermione sat upright into him, fully intending to tickle him into falling off of her, but he grabbed her wrists before she could make contact, pinning the bracelet under his hand. He gasped for his breath, resisting each of her attempts to free herself, and looked down at her. "You're going to pay for that, you witch," he said with a stony face. He carefully folded her arms against her chest and pushed on her wrists until she was flat on her back below him.

No amount of jerking could break his iron grip, and Hermione's heart pounded in her throat when he then stretched her arms over her head. He took a moment to tuck her bracelet further out-of-the-way up her arm and then pinned both of her wrists under his left hand, leaving his right hand free. How angry had she made him? She had been so focused on getting even with his taunts that she had forgotten Malfoy wasn't actually one of her friends. "What are you going to do?" she asked, terrified.

His eyes returned to her face, and his stony expression melted to reveal concerned amusement as he saw her fear. "Relax, Granger. Nothing so dire, but turnabout is fair play," he said. Hermione's fear faded to annoyed apprehension as she realized Malfoy only intended to tickle her back, and Malfoy's smile widened into a genuine grin. "Ready?" he asked her.

"Of course not," Hermione responded, frustrated that he had so quickly gotten the better of her. "Is this absolutely necessary?"

Malfoy chuckled, and his eyes gleamed. "Completely," he said in a quiet voice. "You reap what you sow, Granger." He placed his free hand over her shirt at the base of her ribs and dug in.

Hermione exploded in laughter, twisting underneath Malfoy as he held her in place. "Not fair!" she wheezed when he paused to let her catch her breath. He chuckled and tickled her more, merciless in his assault as his hand danced across to each side and her belly. "Not fair!" she cried again when he paused next.

"Not fair, Granger? Didn't you start this battle?" he chided, his own voice laced with amusement.

"I didn't intend to lose it," she fussed. Her pride smarted, though she couldn't help smiling at the childlike delight Malfoy had taken in their ridiculous tickle fight. She had never seen Malfoy like this. "Can you let me go now?" she asked as her breath began to even out.

"I would, Granger, but you did attack me first, and I haven't heard an apology yet," he hinted.

Hermione glared at him. She was not about to apologize for retaliating to his teasing in the only physical way she had left to her.

Malfoy's eyes gleamed, and his smirk deepened as if she had just taken the bait he was waiting on. He grabbed his wand, cast a spell to lock her arms in position, and brought his left hand down to join his right. "Are you sure, Granger?" he asked her, waggling all ten of his fingers above her. Hermione swallowed hard in fear, and he attacked with both hands.

Tears trailed down her cheeks as she laughed and squirmed in his grasp. She couldn't get her legs free while he sat on her hips, and the spell held her wrists too firmly for her to do more than arch her back and move her head. She briefly had the idea to try and bite him, but she knew the curse would stop her. She could try wandless magic, but without her breath she was just as likely to set the room on fire as stop him. Pride stinging, she admitted defeat. "I'm sorry!" she cried out the second he next paused.

"Are you certain?" Malfoy asked, bouncing his eyebrows at her. "I could always tickle you more…"

"I'm sorry," Hermione said firmly in between gasps for breath.

"Shame. I suppose we should sleep, but I was rather enjoying myself," he said lightly as he released her wrists with a flick of his wand and climbed off of her.

Groaning, Hermione pulled her arms down and rubbed her wrists and arms. The bracelet jingled all the while, adding to the irritation she already felt at having lost the tickle battle. A different kind of frustration coursed through her as well. She might have been too short-of-breath to appreciate it properly at the time, but the memory of having a shirtless Draco Malfoy straddling her and running his hands along her sensitive belly and ribs definitely inspired an oozy warmth somewhere deep in her pelvis. She frowned. She was definitely thinking too much about Malfoy.

Malfoy yawned next to her. "Now, can I trust you to let me rest without terrorizing me? Or do I need to hex you with a bodybind to get a proper nap in before classes start? Wait, hold on." He grabbed his wand and aimed it at her face. "_Scourgify_," he said, vanishing the tears and snot from her face. "Don't want you messing up my clothes or bed."

Hermione sighed at the reminder of how shallow Malfoy could be. Every time she thought they might be growing closer together, he said something that reminded her of what an utter prat he could be. She was beginning to wonder if he did it on purpose. Wouldn't surprise her. Stupid snake. "I'll leave you alone if you leave me alone," she said.

"Deal," Malfoy responded. "Move over though. I like that spot," he added.

Hermione rolled her eyes, scooted further to the other side of the bed, and curled up on her side so that she faced away from Malfoy. He was clearly done with her for now, and yet, he hadn't asked her to leave. She even had a niggling feeling that he would come up with an excuse for her to stay if she tried to go. "Isn't it strange that we're both okay with this?" she asked him after a moment, trying to put words to what was happening between them.

"It's late, Granger," Malfoy said in a voice that was already heavy with sleep.

Hermione frowned. Her mind buzzed with everything that had happened. She had no idea what she felt about Malfoy now, and the very thought of trying to explain even half of this to her friends filled her with dread. For the first time since Hermione discovered that she could learn to communicate via morse code, she wondered if she might be happier keeping her silence until she learned how to break the curse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record, I did one total rewrite of this chapter and about 5 edits to get it this smooth, fun, and natural. I'm not saying you have to comment, but... gimme some love, k? It means a lot, and thank you. I'm not good about replying to them, but I read every one with delight. 
> 
> If you notice Hermione's bracelet appearing a lot more in this chapter, I had somehow forgotten about it the last 2-3 chapters despite the entire bloody fanfic being named after it. I'm impressive like that. It's now written in all caps at the top of my personal notes for this fanfic.


	20. Test

**Chapter 20 - Test**

Hermione would have given a lot to be able to apparate within Hogwarts. She was exhausted in every sense. Her body couldn't figure out if it was too hot or too cold. Every part of her ached from pushing herself so much on the letter writing and the following transfiguration. She needed sleep desperately. However, her thoughts raced far too much to rest while she remained aware that Malfoy slept near her in the same bed. The darkness did not hide the sound of his breathing, nor the smell of his room.

He had kept to his side of the bed, at least. Amongst the many thoughts plaguing Hermione's mind were fears that he might snuggle up to her in his sleep, and she wouldn't know whether to allow it or push him away. Even worse was the thought that she might be the one to move while asleep. She could easily imagine his disgust at being smothered by her hair. Then again, her hair was still spelled up from when he massaged her back earlier. It was really very comfortable, and not much had escaped despite their tickle battle earlier.

Hermione blushed as the memory surfaced of Malfoy sitting on her hips and looking down at her with his hands resting on her abdomen and that mischievous gleam in his eye. She breathed in deeply and blew it out slowly. That memory would stay with her for a long time, but she didn't want to get carried away with it while in his bed. She had to find something else to think about.

It really was a shame that McGonagall had confiscated all his books earlier.

Hermione blinked.

McGonagall hadn't confiscated all his books. Hermione had kept three books hidden away in her bag.

Hermione glanced around the dark room, trying to remember where she had left her bag. Malfoy had an enchantment on his canopy ceiling to show constellations, and the dim light from the tiny stars provided some visibility, but it didn't extend far beyond the bed. Wherever she left her bag, it was beyond her sight.

She sighed and looked to Malfoy, wondering if the sound of summoning the bag might wake him. She chewed her lip. If she were very unlucky, the bag might even hit him on the way to her, but she would lose her mind if she didn't find something to distract her from thoughts of him.

Hermione took a deep breath, picked up her wand, and quietly said, "_Accio_ bag." A rustle sounded from near the door, and she caught the bag as it zoomed towards her from the foot of the bed. The bracelet jingled on Hermione's arm, and Hermione winced at the unexpected noise. Malfoy muttered in his sleep, and Hermione's heartbeat spiked in response as she held her breath while she watched him. He adjusted position slightly though and his breathing evened back out.

"Thank Merlin," Hermione muttered under her breath. Frowning, she realized opening her bag and the consequent books would create even more noise. She nearly cast _muffliato_, but then recalled the spell would fill Malfoy's ears with a slight buzzing noise to drown out her sounds rather than silence her completely. She hardly expected him to sleep through that.

There was also the issue of light. The constellation enchantment provided enough light to make out shapes in the dark, but it would not be nearly enough to read by. Hermione scrunched up her nose in thought. She could leave easily enough, but she didn't want to abandon the comfort of a warm bed to find her way out in the dark Slytherin halls. She doubted she could cast her patronus to guide her this time.

She would simply have to stay. However, where magic failed, logic would prevail. All she had to do was block the sound and light, and Malfoy's duvet was rather thick with lots of slack between her and Malfoy.

Hermione shrugged and scooted herself completely under his bedding until she was completely covered. "_Lumos_," she said quietly, and light filled her little bedding cavern. Grinning, Hermione pulled out the three books Malfoy had asked her to hide.

The book on cursed items grabbed her attention first, and she opened it eagerly now that she could read without Malfoy watching. She didn't really expect to find anything new in the entry on her bracelet, but she hadn't thought to explore the rest of the book previously. She hadn't even taken note of the title in her impatience to learn about her specific curse.

"_Unique Heirlooms for the Keeping of Witches_," she read out quietly. Her mouth twisted in confused disgust. "What…"

"What are you doing, Granger?" she heard Malfoy grumble. Hermione froze as the mattress and duvet shifted. A moment later, her private reading cavern was opened up as Malfoy lifted the duvet that had hidden her. "Reading under the covers?" He raised a brow at her setup, and Hermione blushed.

"I didn't mean to wake you. I couldn't sleep, so I thought I might do some reading. I hoped the bedding would muffle the sound and block the light," she said. He didn't respond except to stare at the book she had opened before her. "I'm sorry that I disturbed you," she added.

Malfoy shrugged as if to say he didn't mind. He didn't say anything, and Hermione wondered how awake he really was. His eyes were only half open in the dim light, and his face was slack, but he leaned on his elbow in front of her, stretched out at a diagonal from where he had fallen asleep. The covers remained around his waist, though the starlight danced over his bare shoulders and gleamed on his scars.

"Malfoy?" Hermione said. Should she ignore his presence and keep reading? Should she leave? Was he upset that she pulled out his books without permission?

He blinked, and his forehead slowly pulled together. "You couldn't sleep?" he asked her.

Hermione half-smiled in exasperated relief. He wasn't angry, but he was also clearly not entirely there. "Yes," she said slowly. "I couldn't sleep." When he frowned slightly, she decided to elaborate. "Too much on my mind."

This eased the crease in his brow, and he nodded slightly. "I have dreamless sleep potion, if you need it," he said. His voice slurred slightly while he spoke, and he yawned after.

Hermione smiled at how far removed this Malfoy was from the polished young man she was used to seeing. "We have classes in less than two hours, Malfoy. I don't want to sleep through them."

He nodded again, cringed, and rubbed the back of his shoulder, stretching his pectoral muscles in the process. Hermione's eyes went wide. It wasn't that Malfoy was particularly muscular or interesting, but she simply wasn't used to getting quite that sort of eyeful of a man in close settings. After he stopped massaging his shoulder, he slumped down in front of her, faced her, and closed his eyes. "So what were you reading?"

Hermione frowned as she recalled she had just discovered the title of the book on her bracelet. "_Unique Heirlooms for the Keeping of Witches_, apparently," she muttered. Malfoy's eyes opened fully, and he pushed himself upright somewhat to study her better. "I hadn't noticed the title last time you let me see it."

Malfoy looked away from her and clenched his fist. "You weren't meant to. I had charmed it to elude your notice."

Hermione's jaw dropped. "You what?" she asked in a low tone as horror and fury competed for her attention. What possible reason could Malfoy have to…

"It wasn't like that, Granger," Malfoy grumbled. "I can't help what the heirloom was used for in the past, and I didn't want you to feel more scared than you already were."

"I'm not scared!" Hermione snapped at him.

Malfoy raised his brow at her just long enough for her to look away first, and he continued. "You've been cut off from the world out of spite. The only reason you can cast spells at all is because I allow it, and I could take that away at any time. Of course, you're terrified. I bloody well would be too in your shoes."

Hermione scowled at him. Just because he was a coward didn't mean that she…

Malfoy snorted and rolled his eyes, flopping fully on his back to stare at his starlit canopy with his hands resting on his bare stomach. "I've seen windows less transparent than you, Granger. There's no shame in being afraid." He looked to her. "I'm not judging you for it, Granger. I'm stating facts. You knew I could do whatever I wanted with you, and you knew I was cruel to you in the past… A death eater, even. You would be mad not to be afraid."

Hermione's teeth were clenched together in frustration. She wanted to deny it, but he wasn't wrong. She had been very afraid of him before she had gotten to know him better. He was both a Malfoy and a death eater, after all. Hermione frowned. Malfoy had been shirtless half the night, and she hadn't noticed his mark. "Where is your dark mark?" she asked him.

He raised one brow at her. "Where is the scar my aunt left on your arm?"

Hermione rubbed her forearm where the word mudblood remained etched forever into her. The bracelet jingled gently with the motion. "Hidden, then. Didn't want to scare me with that either?" she asked him. She pulled herself up and sat cross-legged on the bed with her skirt spread over her lap. "What else have you hidden from me?"

Malfoy slowly pulled himself upright, wincing in the process, and Hermione struggled to focus on the conversation rather than the pain he was showing from such basic movement. After all, it was his own fault he hadn't seen Madam Pomfrey for help with his back, right? He folded his legs in front of him, mirroring her position, and faced her. "What makes you think I would tell you, Granger? Why would you trust my word now when you know that I have not been completely forward?"

Hermione clenched the fabric of her skirt, hating that he had a point. When she looked up, she saw that Malfoy's eyes had followed the hemline of her skirt, which had pulled up to reveal her knees slightly from gripping it. Experimentally, Hermione pulled just a fraction more into her hands. Malfoy's eyes tracked the movement, and his lips parted slightly. It wasn't enough to convince Hermione that he was genuinely interested in her, but the knowledge that he was interested in her at all… "You're lonely."

"What?" Malfoy hissed, his eyes returned to her own with a glare.

Hermione cocked her head to the side and brushed a stray strand of hair out of her face with her right hand. "You're lonely. You've had no friends this past year. No girlfriend since… what, 5th year? You've had no one to talk to that you feel safe with. You even told me as much in the library when I tried to bargain with you. What was it you said… that you needed to find a way to convince others not to treat you with fear or disdain? You're lonely, and now you have complete access to me under this curse, and you know I couldn't betray you even if I wanted to."

Hermione gasped as several things clicked in her head at once, and her mouth raced to keep up with her thoughts. "That's why you're opening up to me. That's why you asked me to stay earlier. That's why you didn't kick me out when I fell asleep in your bed… why you were so patient with the massages. Even though you openly despised me a few days ago, you're so desperate for a companion that you would rather hide the truth than risk losing access to me."

Hermione focused in on Malfoy's face and flinched at the raw rage she saw. Even in the dim light, it was clear his nostrils flared with each breath, and his eyes glowered at her. Hermione hugged herself to brace herself against whatever his response would be. She had forgotten how important pride was to Malfoy, and she had just called him lonely and desperate… She swallowed hard and tried to think of a way to mitigate or redirect his intense fury. "I don't mind, really," she lied. She wanted him to enjoy her out of interest, not desperation, but she could make a concession to calm him down. "I've been lonely too," she admitted. There was no lie in that, at least. She had been lonely for far longer than the curse had been in effect with Harry and Ron gone from school.

Malfoy's features relaxed some with her words, and he took a deep breath and blew it out slowly to the side. "I have not hidden any practical details on the bracelet from you. I only hid the intended purpose of the bracelet, which is to force the wearer to be one's… mistress, of sorts." He glanced at her. "You don't seem surprised."

Hermione shrugged. "The possibility had crossed my mind," she explained. She shuddered, but she also knew Malfoy didn't expect that of her. "Is that all?" she asked him.

"The charm I used on the book has worn off now, so you may reread it in its entirety, if you wish," he said.

Hermione greedily opened the book, scanned the table of contents, which now revealed that there were several conspicuous heirlooms of the same nature, and flipped to the entry on her bracelet. Rereading it, she found that Malfoy had only hidden the bracelet's intent, as he claimed, though there was at least one related detail she had not read before. "No female heirs may use the bracelet?"

Malfoy shrugged. "I didn't create it, Granger. I didn't know it existed until after you wore it. The Malfoy family spans centuries, Granger. We've collected a lot of heirlooms, though most dark objects were lost to raids following the last two wizarding wars." He took a deep breath. "This bracelet was designed to allow a wizard to do whatever he wanted with the witch of his choice. I expect my father hoped I would take advantage of the curse to humiliate and degrade you."

"But you have a moral code," Hermione said, watching him carefully.

His eyes met hers with black fire in them. "I am done hurting others for my amusement. Never again."

Hermione swallowed and nodded. Absentmindedly, she did some diagnostic spells on the book to see if it hid anything else, but it was just a book now with no magic to it. "I trust you not to hurt me," she said after a moment.

"You didn't when we had our tickle fight," Malfoy reminded her. "You were afraid."

Hermione couldn't deny that. She chewed her lip and fiddled with her skirt some more, ignoring the gentle music of her bracelet, and her mind went back to the interest he had shown earlier. He was interested in her physically, at least in part, but was that desperation too? Was he interested in her as Hermione Granger as well or was it just her body? Did it matter? Should she try to find out what all he wanted from her?

Silence fell between them, and Hermione's thoughts continued to race. They had both owned that they were lonely. Should she try to ask for friendship? What if he rejected her, could she handle it? If they were friends, would she still be able to focus on her freedom behind his back? Would she tell him? How would he react? What of her own friends' reactions, and how would things change when she did break free of the curse?

Malfoy sighed. "You really do think too much, Granger." He picked up her right hand from her skirt and held it between his own hands. He frowned and closed his eyes. "Hang on. I need a moment to find the right words."

Hermione's heart fluttered in her chest as she considered what he might be doing. Was he going to confess to her? But that seemed too unlikely. But if not that, then what? What would the words matter for?

"Granger, I give you the privilege of hurting, restraining, and otherwise stopping me. Restraints will not last more than… five minutes. These privileges may not be used to communicate with others, cause permanent damage, or escape the curse." He opened his eyes and put her hand back on her skirt. "Now try punching me."

Hermione stared at him with wide eyes. Her heart felt too full. "Are you sure?"

He shrugged. "We won't know if this worked until you try to hurt me."

Hermione bit her lip, pulled her right hand into a fist, and faltered. "I don't want to hurt you," she said. "You just gave me more of my freedom back."

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "I did, and I don't look forward to being smacked on a regular basis like I've seen you do to your friends, but I don't want you to be afraid of me. Now hit me so I know this worked."

Hermione shook her head. "No. I don't have any reason to hit you."

Malfoy raised both eyebrows at her, creating creases across his forehead. "You need a reason? Do you really want me to give you a reason?"

Hermione scowled. "I don't just hit people for fun, Malfoy!"

"You're a swot, Granger. I thought you liked knowing how things worked."

"I do, but that doesn't mean I would hurt you just to learn!" Hermione exclaimed.

Malfoy and Hermione glared at each other. After a moment, Hermione sighed. "I suppose I could try a leg-locker curse on you to see if I can restrain you. That shouldn't hurt you." When Malfoy nodded and moved his legs in front of him so that he was in a comfortable position, Hermione raised her wand and said, "_Locomotor mortis._" Malfoy's legs fastened together, and when he lifted them from his hips, they remained fastened, and he tumbled backwards onto the bed with a groan. Relief flowed through Hermione to know that she could curse Malfoy again if needed.

Malfoy quickly grabbed his own wand and muttered the counter-curse, freeing his legs before pulling himself back up. "Good. I still want to make sure you can hit me."

Hermione shook her head. "I really think this is unnecessary."

"Come on, Granger? What should I do? Make fun of your hair? Mock Weasel and Pothead?" Hermione just stared at him, not knowing how to respond, and Malfoy sighed. "I don't want to outright assault you. Should I tickle you again?"

Hermione blushed and thanked the stars for their dim lighting, knowing her reaction was likely hidden from him. "Err, tickling should work," she said. Her face felt like it was on fire, and she felt goosebumps form over her entire body in anticipation of his hands on her again, even in such a ridiculous way.

He hesitated, studying her. "Tickling it is," he said. He still didn't move, and Hermione felt electricity dance along her nerves. How would he start? Would he ambush her? Move in slowly? Would this become something more? Did she want it to? Her lips parted, and she realized she was panting slightly just thinking about it. She tucked her bottom lip into her mouth and ran her tongue over it, wetting it.

Malfoy finally moved, but only to pick up the books on the bed, put them back in her bag, and place the bag on the floor. He paused again, placed his own wand on the side table, then gently took her own from her hands and placed it beside his. "Are you ready?" he asked her. He sat on his knees facing her with his hands in his lap.

Hermione smirked at him, trying to calm her nerves. "Wouldn't I be more likely to hit you if you attacked without warning?" she asked him. Malfoy didn't respond to her taunt, and she nodded. "I'm ready."

Malfoy leaned forward, placed a hand on Hermione's shoulder, and gently pushed her backwards so that she fell on her back in the bed with her hands at her sides. He hovered above her, frowning at her, and bit his bottom lip.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked when he kept staring at her instead of tickling.

"This was easier when it was retaliation," he explained. He placed a hand on the bottom of her ribs. He smirked. "Kissing you would be simpler."

"What?" Hermione gasped as all air left her lungs in shock.

He rolled his eyes at her. "To get you to slap me, of course. Don't act so confused, Granger. Did you forget why we're doing this?"

Hermione breathed in again, but she trembled in mortification that she had thought he might want to kiss her. Even if he did want to kiss her, it would likely not be to kiss Hermione Granger. He was lonely and desperate, after all. "Right, of course. I haven't been kissed in a long time though, so perhaps just tickling?"

"Afraid you might get carried away, Granger?" Malfoy asked her with a raised eyebrow. His smirk deepened into a knowing one, and she blushed. "I'm not a bad kisser, you know. Pansy never had any complaints."

Hermione glared at him for teasing her. "Well go ahead if you want to kiss me so badly. Suppose it couldn't be worse than McLaggen forcing himself on me at Slughorn's holiday party."

Malfoy glowered at her. "I don't force myself on witches, Granger. I would have done it already to get this over with if I were that sort of wizard. Do you honestly think I like hovering over you trying to figure out how to initiate a tickling battle?"

Malfoy's complaint struck home. Hermione's pride stung, and she clenched her teeth together as she tried to duck out from under him to escape him.

"Oh no, you don't," Malfoy ordered, blocking her by shifting his arm and halfway landing on her to pin her in place. "Not yet. I'm not letting you go until you try to hit me."

"Get off of me!" Hermione ordered.

"Hit me," Malfoy reminded her, sounding exasperated.

"How? You have my arms pinned," Hermione pointed out.

Malfoy abruptly pulled himself up off of her to free her arms, and Hermione used her freedom to rub her weary eyes. The bracelet jingled against her cheek, and she groaned, wishing she could be rid of it. "I don't want to hit you," she said with her eyes covered.

She heard him sigh, and a moment later, she felt his fingertips on her belly through the shirt. He walked them from one side to the other, causing her to squirm. Hermione frowned, but didn't remove her hands from her eyes to look. "What are you doing?"

"Hit my hands away when you want me to stop," he said. He adjusted position so that he sat on her hips again, and his other hand joined the first, poking into her belly gently as he walked them up her ribs to just below her breasts and back down to the hem of his old Quidditch jersey. She felt his fingers slip under it and gently push it up, revealing her belly. Entranced by her curiosity of what he might do, Hermione didn't react beyond holding her breath.

Malfoy walked his fingers over her bare belly this time, then slowly trailed them back to her hips, causing her to gasp slightly. She felt her nipples pucker against the fabric and wondered if he could see the change in the dark. He was quiet as he walked his fingers up her belly again to the hemline and pushed it up to the bottom of her breasts. They felt heavy and full as he traced the outline of her ribs in the dark and slid his fingers down her sides, and she bit her lip in wonderment at having someone touch her like this. How far would he go before he stopped? He expected her to hit his hands away, but would he keep going if she didn't? She ached to be touched more.

He walked his hands back up her stomach and over her ribs, slowing as he approached her breasts. He paused just below them and sighed as if disappointed. "Granger, why haven't you stopped me?" Malfoy asked her.

Hermione froze and looked at him between parted fingers. She swore she could see a mask slide into place on his face. Her heart pounded in her chest. She should have stopped him. She shouldn't have let him get even this far with touching her. They weren't dating… they weren't even friends, really, but his touch had felt nice, and her sleep-deprived brain… Could she really blame this on sleep-deprivation?

Malfoy sneered down at her. "Really, Granger? I had no idea you were so desperate for this kind of attention. Perhaps I should reassess whether to use the bracelet for its intended purpose after all if you're so determined to whore yourself to me."

Hermione didn't even think. Her hands flew down from her face where they had been half-hiding her eyes, slapped his hands off of her, and tugged the jersey back over her belly.

"Good, so you can hit me now," Malfoy said, rubbing his hands where she had slapped them. "I recommend leaving if you don't want more of my attention," he said, narrowing his eyes at her.

Hermione swallowed. She couldn't tell if he meant it to be more threat or invitation, but she knew she didn't want to jump into changing the dynamics of their relationship. It was one thing to test how far he would go. It was another thing entirely to stay with the intent of doing more. "I'll see myself out then," she said.

Malfoy nodded firmly. When he climbed off of her, Hermione scrambled off his bed and scurried out of his room without a backward glance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delay in posting this today! I had a lot going on this last week, and a 2 hr occupational therapy evaluation for my youngest son today.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the chapter! I love getting feedback, and I try to answer questions when I see them.
> 
> And yes, Hermione totally left her wand behind in Malfoy's room. Whoops!
> 
> For future reference, I'll be putting The Cursed Bracelet chapter completion status on my fanfiction.net profile at https://www.fanfiction.net/~nerdmomwriter so you can see if I'm on schedule or why I'm late if I'm behind.


	21. Battle

**Chapter 21 - Battle**

Hermione made it five steps into the darkness of the Slytherin dungeon's pitch-black hallways before she realized she was barefoot and hadn't paid attention to her path on leaving. She was lost. She listened for the sounds of the common room, but she heard nothing. Likely, it was still too early for the usual bustle of students. Frowning, Hermione reached for her wand. She knew she was too drained of her magic to make a proper patronus, but she might still manage a wisp to light her way.

Her wand wasn't there.

Hermione's brows furrowed with confusion. She searched her other skirt pocket for it, then went to look for it in her cloak and realized she was still wearing Malfoy's Quidditch jersey. Her robe, shirt, tie, socks, and shoes had been left in Malfoy's room.

As had her wand.

Hermione inhaled slowly and deeply against the rising panic within. Malfoy wouldn't keep her wand from her. He might be a cruel and manipulative arse, but he wasn't malicious without cause. Hermione shook her head and smiled sadly. For all that Malfoy prided himself on manipulation and subtlety, Hermione was beginning to find him quite obvious. He cared about her. The accusation that she might be whoring herself was awful and horrible, and her knee-jerk reaction had been to hit him for it and flee from his barbed tongue, but his purpose for saying it had been crystal clear to her.

He had wanted her to stop herself before she did something she regretted. In short, he had thought she needed protection from herself.

Hermione scowled at the thought. She hadn't asked Malfoy to step in… even if he had been right. Hermione's anger cooled to embers at the acknowledgement. She had gotten carried away. Regardless of what she might desire in the future with Malfoy, she would have regretted doing more in that moment. Hermione huffed in frustration and hugged herself, wishing she had her robe for warmth and the security of feeling covered.

Malfoy's bed had been so warm in comparison, especially when Malfoy had been pressed against her...

Hermione winced. She was physically attracted to Malfoy. Denying that at this point would be preposterous, but that didn't mean she knew where her heart stood or what she wanted with him. It didn't even mean she particularly liked him, given his tendency to manipulate through cruel words rather than just be open and honest. She thought back to how he had pushed her away earlier that night as well with his _scourgify_ spell on her face. Even with his moral code, Malfoy was infuriating and terrible.

She was much better off heeding his warnings to stay away and stay distant. However, the curse tied her to him until she freed herself.

Then again, she didn't actually have to continue interacting with Malfoy. The book on morse code should arrive any day now. Hermione supposed she could just keep to herself and chat with Ginny and Professor McGonagall to manage her loneliness. She could simply mind her own business and keep away from Malfoy until she found a way to free herself away from him, and they would never need to speak again.

Hermione's eyes prickled as tears filled them, and her heart ached at the idea of ending her involvement with Malfoy. Even with all his thorns, the mere idea of losing his association filled her with horror and longing.

"No," Hermione whispered to herself, weakly protesting the intensity of the pain she felt. "No, no, no…" she moaned. She knew her heart well enough to know what it meant.

Of all the people in this castle, she had a crush on Malfoy.

Hermione slumped down and let the cold of the stone dungeon floors seep into her bare legs underneath her skirt as she adjusted to her new reality. She expected to feel mortified to have fallen for such a complicated, confusing, impossible man, but the only feeling that came forward was anger that he essentially called her a whore to protect her from herself.

Why couldn't he have just told her directly that she needed to stop? Or better yet, just stop for himself, since clearly the decision was not about what she actually needed but what he felt she needed. If he weren't so difficult, rude, and impossible, then maybe...

Hermione pulled herself to her feet and marched back in the direction she had come from, which would hopefully lead to Malfoy's room. She needed her clothes and wand, but more importantly, she needed to tell him off. She would tell him off for not being more honest with her, grab her stuff, and then…

Her steps faltered.

This was Malfoy she was talking about. Would she leave after she had told him off for communicating with her in the same way he had always communicated with everyone? Avoid him for essentially being himself without giving him an option to change?

Hermione snorted. Malfoy wasn't heartless. He obviously cared for her in some respect, but she knew his interest in her wellbeing was due to a mix of his moral code, his desperation for companionship, and the sheer sense of responsibility for the woman caught in his father's curse. He didn't value her for who she was. He couldn't. He was proud, and she wasn't anyone worth knowing in his world of pureblood aristocracy. He probably wouldn't even speak to her again if it weren't for the curse.

Hermione shuddered and took several deep, steadying breaths. She had almost forgotten, somehow, that the only reason he spoke to her now was because she couldn't betray him. If she had followed through on her attraction to him… If she fed this crush with continued exposure to Malfoy…

She was setting herself up for some serious heartbreak.

"I have to stop this," Hermione said to herself. She chewed her bottom lip as she considered her options. It was not enough to simply avoid him. She doubted that she had the self-restraint necessary given the intensity of her feelings, and she rather suspected he would pester her if she suddenly avoided him without explanation. Of course, actually explaining the true reason for staying away would be infinitely worse. She would have to convince him it was his choice somehow…

"Oh," she gasped. "If I…" She blinked in the darkness as the plan came together in her head. It was so simple. She would confront him on his manipulative tactics, inform him that she didn't want anything to do with him while he refused to be open and honest with her, and then let him know that he knew where to find her should he ever decide to change.

He would never change for her. Hermione allowed herself a self-deprecating smirk. The plan was perfect. Oh, she expected he would tease her for thinking so highly of herself as to suggest he should change, but afterwards, she would have the freedom to pursue her studies away from him. He would leave her alone, and she would not be so tempted to seek him out after having given her word that she wasn't interested in the companionship of someone who wouldn't be open and honest with her. Her own pride would forbid it. They might still need to interact every once in a while regarding the curse, but this would be the end.

Tears freed themselves from her lashes and slipped down her cheeks. Hermione laughed at herself for getting so caught up in Malfoy even as she grieved the impending loss of what she had found with him. He had been far more considerate than she had expected. He had been patient with her in many respects, and the letters…

Hermione shook her head at herself. The correspondence had been engaging, but it had been fake. For all she knew, Malfoy had only feigned interest in the topics they discussed for the sake of convincing McGonagall and the aurors who would eventually read the letters.

Hermione wiped her face on the hem of Malfoy's shirt and continued her walk back to his room.

The first few doors she went through were not Malfoy's, but she eventually stumbled into his bedroom and found Malfoy haunched over the hidden potions drawer in his wardrobe with an open bottle of firewhisky in one hand. The lights were on again, making it easy to see that he froze when she entered. He knew she was there, and yet he ignored her, opting instead to focus on his task of packing his secret potions drawer back up with his free hand. Hermione cleared her throat, and still, he refused to turn.

"Malfoy," she stated, trying to maintain the upper edge.

"Granger," Malfoy responded and grimaced. He stood, took a swig straight from the bottle, and finally faced her. "Have you come back for more?" he asked with a dangerous glint in his eyes.

Hermione snorted and rolled her eyes. "Hardly. I left my things," she said. She picked up her wand from the side table, slipped on her socks and shoes, and wrapped her robe around her before she picked up her blouse and bra and stuffed them in her robe's pockets. She paused, squared her shoulders, and faced Malfoy. "I also need to speak with you."

"Can't wait, Granger? It's nearly dawn, and neither of us have slept much," Malfoy complained. Hermione steadied her gaze at him. Malfoy pinched his brow together, put down the bottle on top of his wardrobe, and crossed his arms. "Go on then, Granger. Talk your heart out. It's what you're good at, right?"

Hermione placed her hands on her hips and took a deep breath. "We're both lonely and wanting companionship, but even with the curse, I have standards, Malfoy."

Malfoy scoffed. "Standards? What standards? You were about to let me feel you up on a whim," Malfoy reminded her. "Not that I'd particularly mind having fun with your body, but you were the one who told me about Stockholm Syndrome and how you might become attracted to me simply because you're effectively my captive. Making love to someone under those circumstances feels a bit too much like assault for my taste. Moral code and all that."

Hermione gaped at him. She had forgotten about Stockholm Syndrome, and his honesty just now… Was he inebriated? She glanced up at the bottle of firewhisky quickly before returning her eyes to Malfoy. Her heart thundered in her chest. If Malfoy would talk to her now... "Why didn't you just say so then, Malfoy? Rather than accusing me of whoring myself to you, which was, by the way, downright horrible and cruel, you could have just stated that you wanted to stop. But did you? No, instead you came up with something vile and vicious to push me away, because Merlin forbid you treat me with enough respect to tell me the full truth."

Malfoy scowled at her. "I was trying to protect you," he growled through a tight jaw.

Hermione cocked her hips to the side, and raised an eyebrow. "I did actually figure that out, Malfoy, which is the only reason I'm speaking to you now instead of giving you a full practical education of the many curses I've learned while on the run with Harry during the war." She watched Malfoy's eyes widen slightly with alarm at that, and she smirked. "Forgot I could hurt you again, did you?" She took a deep breath, straightened her posture, and ran a hand through her hair only to find it was still mostly fastened up from Malfoy's earlier spell. She froze at the reminder of his kindness and pulled her hand back out to let it drop at her side. "Well, as it turns out, you were right," she admitted, and she watched his eyes grow even wider. "I got carried away. I would have regretted doing more with you, but not for the reason you think."

Malfoy shifted his hands to his own hips and leaned forward slightly, glaring at her from across the bed. "Fascinating. Care to share?"

Hermione swallowed and struggled not to hug herself again, as she knew she could not say this next part without at least partially exposing the depth of her feelings for him. She settled for putting her hands in her skirt pockets and gripping the fabric inside. Her plan had felt so solid in the darkness of the hallway, but now that Malfoy was in front of her, she didn't even know where to start. She had planned to tell him that he needed to be honest, but he was being honest now… Likely due to the firewhisky, but still… She frowned. "I don't want to be involved with someone who feels like they have to manage me through lies and deceit… through threats." Her lip wavered and she avoided his eyes as she considered how to say the next part without revealing how much she cared. "I also don't want to be someone you would regret under other circumstances. We both know you only tolerate me now because of the curse."

Silence followed, and Hermione realized with a pang that she had hoped he would deny it and admit he cared for her regardless of the curse. The blow of her disappointment left her temporarily breathless with mortification. Her feelings truly were unrequited. When she recovered enough to catch her breath, she glanced up at Malfoy and gasped. Malfoy had already been angry, but now he was livid. His nostrils flared with each breath, and his eyes were drawn so tightly that his normal gray irises looked like two shards of onyx.

The corner of his mouth curled into a cruel smirk when he saw her shock, and he cocked his head to the side. "Poor, poor Granger," he drawled, and he began slowly prowling around the bed that separated them. "You got caught in a curse, and the one person you can talk to is someone you hated. Someone whom you never trusted and who has zero reason to trust you. Someone who never asked to be responsible for your well-being in any respect." He paused, wrapped his hand around the bedpost at the corner nearest her, and leaned around it to leer at her, his face so tense with fury that he resembled a sculpture chiseled from stone.

Hermione took a step back, holding her wand between them even though Malfoy himself was wandless. She had never seen him so irate.

Malfoy slithered around the corner as smoothly as a snake, and he continued speaking. "Never mind that I've given you substantial freedoms for your position… your wand, your magic… your ability to battle me should you feel unsafe. Did you think I did these lightly? Have you even considered what my father might do to me when he finds out? Of course, not. You're so focused on how you're the victim in this that all you can think about is yourself, and when you figured out that I was lonely, you expected me to cater to your every wish. Your every _desire_," he hissed.

He took another step forward, still glaring at her. "We've barely interacted except to cause each other trouble for the last eight years, and you suddenly expect me to trust you? Be honest with you?" He chuckled harshly and came closer. "You even want me to lust for you?"

Hermione began backing away, but Malfoy followed her, step by step, until her back hit the wall and he was close enough that she felt his body heat. Hermione stared at him with wide eyes, horrified. She had expected him to ridicule her for her request, but not like this… His barbs dug deep in her heart and pride. She hadn't considered what Malfoy was risking for her sake. She felt sick to her stomach.

"Allow me to be honest with you then, Granger," Malfoy said carefully, keeping his eyes on hers. She could smell the firewhisky on his breath. "I trust the curse to manage you, but I don't trust you. I'm not so naive as to think you initiated contact with me for any reason other than self-preservation. You never gave a thought to me before, and yet you complain that I only tolerate you because of the curse? Granger, I could ignore you outright if I liked, and my days would be the same as before. You are the one who has no one else to go to."

Hermione flinched, and her eyes watered, but she couldn't look away from him. She had come to him with the intent to manipulate him into helping her. She wouldn't have noticed him without the curse, and she was plotting behind his back to escape. He was right not to trust her. A tear slipped down her cheek, and she looked down, no longer able to make eye contact with him.

Malfoy blew out a long sigh. His posture straightened up away from her as he took a step back, and his hands went into his pockets. "Don't cry, Granger," he said. All traces of cruelty and mockery had vanished from his tone, leaving only warmth and grief in his voice.

Hermione wiped her face on her robe and tried to stop more tears from coming, but her mortification at his kindness had broken the dam. They flowed freely down her face despite her efforts. "I'll go now," she whimpered, and she angled to step around him.

"I don't hate you, Granger."

Hermione froze before she even took a step. Cautiously, she raised her eyes up until she found his staring steadily back at her. His expression was guarded, but no longer cold. All the harsh edges had melted away. "I'm not sure I believe that," she responded after a moment. She rather despised herself too in the moment.

He studied her for a long moment before speaking again. "I enjoyed the letters," he said and shrugged. "I enjoyed the battle of wills over the massage." He offered a wry smile. "I even enjoyed the tickle fight." His smile faded, and he reached out with his right hand to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear before resting the hand on her jaw. "I don't hate you, and I don't plan to abandon you, Granger," he said. He used his thumb to wipe away the mess on her face, and he stepped closer again. "I expect that, in time, we might become friends."

He paused to take a deep breath. "I also recognize that you have no one else now," he said. He cleared his throat before continuing and studied her lips, allowing his thumb to spread out and press against her lower lip. "I am not wholly against providing the intimacy you crave, but it's too soon, Granger."

"Too soon?" she echoed. She felt as if he had bewitched her, but his wand still rested on the nightstand. Her lip tingled where his thumb touched it. She contemplated leaning in to press both lips against his thumb, but he withdrew it back to her cheek.

"You're frightened and confused now, Granger. It wouldn't be right," Malfoy explained. He chewed his own bottom lip looking at her, his hand still against her jawline. "I won't change. Manipulation and deceit are requirements for success in my world, but if you come to accept who I am and still wish for my company, you know where to find me. You are my responsibility. I won't turn you away."

He leaned over and kissed her forehead just firmly and long enough for her to memorize the feel of his soft lips against her skin. When he pulled back, he stepped aside as well, clearing her way to the exit.

Hermione openly wept. The confrontation had not gone at all how she expected it to, and she was not sure whether his cruelty or his kindness hurt more. She didn't want to be his responsibility. She didn't want his pity in the form of kindness. She wanted his respect, and it had never felt further away.

She avoided his eyes as she walked past him, but paused at the door and looked back as she realized he had focused on her needs even after complaining about her own selfishness. What of his needs? What if he wanted to have a girlfriend? What did he want from her? "Malfoy, what do you think of me?" she asked, realizing he never actually shared whether he cared for her or not beyond the responsibility he felt. He had said he enjoyed his time with her, but was that the same as wanting to know her?

Malfoy cocked his head. "I think you ask too many questions," he said. He walked back around the bed to his firewhisky and took another swig of the drink. "Good night, Granger. I'll make sure to get the letters to McGonagall. You can return my jersey later."

Hermione nodded. She had actually forgotten about the letters, but it was clear Malfoy was done with her for now. Feeling rather too much like a child leaving the principal's office after being reprimanded, she escaped his room and the Slytherin dungeons.


	22. Refresh

**Chapter 22 - Refresh**

Hermione slowed down as she neared the Great Hall on the way to her bedroom. Her heart was a mess. She wanted nothing more than to take a long soak in the bath followed by a long nap. However, the smells of bacon, sausage, and eggs discovered her. She nearly followed her nose into the Great Hall with no regard for her current appearance, but a random draft of cold air caught Hermione and reminded her rather awkwardly that she still wore Malfoy's jersey without a bra on underneath.

Hermione backed out, embarrassed at the thought of being seen like this, then hesitated, recalling that she was invisible thanks to the curse. Well, Malfoy could see her, but he wasn't likely to come up soon, was he? And even if he did, he had already seen her like this, right? Hermione chewed her lip in indecision, but propriety won out. Illogical as it felt, Hermione simply couldn't stomach entering the Great Hall in such a state. She sighed and took one step towards the Gryffindor tower to get dressed when she recalled that her bra and blouse were in her pockets.

"Of course," Hermione muttered to herself, and she headed for the nearest loo to change. Malfoy's words that she could run around naked taunted her on the way, but she refused to pay them heed. She was raised better than that, even if she let herself get carried away with Malfoy's hands in his bedroom.

Hermione recalled how his elegant long fingers had explored her exposed belly and come so very close to her breasts, and she blushed with a mix of mortification and delight. Once she had the privacy of the loo, she pulled off his jersey and considered allowing her own hands to explore herself the way she had hoped Malfoy's hands would. The very thought stung her with heat, however, and she hastened to put on her bra before temptation distracted her from what really mattered, like eating a healthy breakfast, staying on her studies, and protecting her heart from Malfoy.

"Though there's nothing wrong with a little fun if it's consensual," Hermione reminded herself. It wasn't like she and Ron had never let their hands wander, though Ron's hands had been more fumbling and self-serving than Malfoy's precise, teasing movements. Hermione's ears burned as she thought more on her night with Malfoy, and her expression soured as she recalled that his primary reason for stopping had been about consent. Could she have Stockholm Syndrome?

Hermione slipped on her blouse next and buttoned it. She glanced down at its many wrinkles and scowled, knowing she probably looked quite rumpled all over. Hermione wished the curse allowed her to see her reflection. No one could see her but Malfoy, of course, but she would like to know what Malfoy saw when he looked at her. Would he even tell her if she had a smudge on her face? She was quite guilty of leaving smears of ink on her cheeks and forehead when she got very busy studying. His soft lips on her forehead came to mind, and she squeezed her eyes shut against the memory. Under other circumstances, she would likely have treasured such a declaration of affection. However, he had called her his responsibility just beforehand, like she was some kind of deranged pet he got stuck with. Was that how Malfoy saw her?

"I didn't ask for his pity," she grumbled. Her words echoed in her mind with an odd deja vu. That's right. Malfoy had said something similar to her after she defended him from Ginny yesterday. Hermione froze. Had that really only been yesterday?

Her jaw fell open as she recalled the encounter between Ginny and Malfoy had also been when she felt the first real spark of her attraction to Malfoy. Within one day, she had somehow gone from barely tolerating him to openly desiring him. Was her heart so fickle? Ron had just broken up with her the other day as well, and now Hermione hardly thought of him. Her head was full of Malfoy. "Small wonder Malfoy thinks I have Stockholm," she said. She chewed her bottom lip, considering the possibility that she had fallen victim to that particular psychological phenomenon.

Malfoy certainly held power over her in their current arrangement, and she unquestionably felt strongly for him now, however… her feelings had been born from the knowledge that they were more similar than she had realized. "Though perhaps believing that sort of thing is part of Stockholm Syndrome as well," Hermione pondered, playing devil's advocate to herself. It felt wrong though, somehow. "At the root of Stockholm is viewing the other person as your captor," Hermione said, pacing in front of the sinks in the loo.

The door opened, and Hermione froze, momentarily fearful that she had been overheard. A yawning young Hufflepuff entered, ignored Hermione entirely, and claimed a stall without acknowledging her. Hermione took deep breaths to calm her frantic heart and cringed in shame when she recalled the curse would have prevented her from being heard or seen.

Being unintentionally ignored by someone felt strange after all her hours working with Malfoy. Spending time with him away from everyone else had let her focus on something other than her curse. He had made it all too easy for Hermione to forget her circumstances. She would never have tickled him if she had been focusing on the power difference between them.

Ah.

Feeling suddenly unsteady, Hermione leaned back against one of the sinks and hugged herself. She may not fully understand Stockholm Syndrome, but she was fairly certain that it did not happen unless you considered the other person your captor.

Hermione's feelings for Malfoy had only flourished when she had forgotten he held power over her.

"Bollucks," Hermione cursed and sighed. It wasn't as though she was very disappointed to discover her feelings for Malfoy were likely genuine. Her pride certainly preferred the blow of genuine affection over the injury of having fallen to a psychological trap. However, some part of her knew she would have an easier time keeping her distance and moving on if her feelings had not been genuine.

Creating distance was the one thing Hermione was certain of. She would have to stay away from Malfoy if she wanted to survive this curse with her heart intact.

Hermione patted down her hair, which still remained partially fastened up, and brushed out the wrinkles in her shirt and skirt as well as she could manage. Of course, her robe would hide much of them, and even if it couldn't, only Malfoy could see her, but…

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut in frustration. She was allowed to care for her appearance even when no one could witness it.

She left the loo and headed back for the Great Hall, which was beginning to look lively. Hermione scanned the tables quickly and sat down at the Hufflepuff table. Somehow, sitting with her own house was too painful, and she certainly wouldn't risk sitting next to Malfoy while her heart was so vulnerable. The Hufflepuffs wouldn't mind her presence though.

Breakfast went smoothly. No one seemed to notice Hermione while she quickly downed several eggs and some sausage. If Malfoy entered the hall for breakfast, Hermione never saw him. She left as quickly as she was able, and since she had the time available before Advanced Charms, she headed back up to Gryffindor Tower to freshen up before class.

Hermione rather did miss having access to the prefect bathroom this year, but the shower in Gryffindor Tower still felt heavenly after her long night with Malfoy. She wondered what Ginny and Harry would say if they knew. She smirked as she pictured Harry speechless while Ginny exploded with questions. Of course, given their bias against Malfoy, Harry's speechless state would likely be accompanied by a suspicious glare, and Ginny's explosion of questions would probably be judgmental in nature. Hermione's lip curled down in a slight frown. Could she even blame them? Malfoy was bad news regardless of his past.

He had actually offered to provide her intimacy as part of his responsibility towards her.

Hermione shuddered. Even putting the complication of her genuine interest aside, could she ever become so desperate for physical affection that she would ask Malfoy for help knowing he would feel obligated to grant it? It was one thing if he wanted it too, but… Hermione pictured a grimacing Malfoy forcing himself to touch her and was quickly overcome with nausea. The very thought was vile. How would that be any different from assaulting him directly?

She didn't just need to protect her heart from him. She also needed to protect him from his responsibility to her.

Hermione finished her shower, toweled herself dry with renewed vigor, and quickly got dressed. When she went to her room to collect her things, she found a parcel sitting at her bedside table and Ginny sitting on her bed next to it. Their other roommates had already left for the morning. Hermione paused, recalling that when she had last left Ginny, Ginny had been convinced that Malfoy had imperiused Hermione or worse given her claim that Malfoy had been decent about things.

Anxiety filled Hermione at the thought of facing Ginny again so soon after how their previous conversation had turned out, but Hermione also desperately wanted to talk to someone about what had happened, and Ginny had become rather good at relationship advice.

Hermione took a deep breath, walked up to Ginny, and looked at the parcel on the table. It was an envelope on top of a box wrapped in brown paper, and the whole thing was tied up with twine. The envelope was addressed to Hermione and Ginny in a vaguely familiar handwriting.

Well, that explained Ginny's presence, at least, and if it were addressed to both of them… "The morse code book from George!" Hermione gasped. What other reason would they receive a package addressed to them now?

Hermione untied the string, catching Ginny's attention, and handed Ginny the envelope. Ginny looked at the space Hermione was in expectantly, but her eyes never found the envelope. "Hermione?"

"Right," Hermione muttered and dropped the envelope in Ginny's lap so Ginny could see it again.

Ginny shuddered. "I don't think I'll ever get used to that." She yawned. "Morning, 'Mione. Where were you last night? I kept waiting for you to return, but you never did. Not till now. Guess you can't exactly explain it until we know morse code. I expect that's what's in the box though. It's George's handwriting." Ginny looked down at the letter in her lap. "Right, I should probably read this first." She opened the envelope and slid out a folded piece of parchment from within. "Dear Hermione and Ginny," Ginny read. "I would provide a translation book on morse code, but I'm afraid it's rather impossible… or perhaps the word I'm looking for is impractical?"

Ginny paused with a look of disgust on her face and stared at the box. "What's he mean, impractical?"

Hermione tried to lean over Ginny to read the letter herself in her impatience to learn what George had meant, but Ginny continued a moment later. "Morse code is not a language. It is a direct translation of letters, numbers, and punctuation." Ginny blinked in surprise. "Oh, well I suppose that makes sense. But why the box then? Hang on, I'll finish reading: I have included the translation in the box along with a book for each of you. I hope the books will provide you wisdom and solace in this trying time. All my best, George."

Hermione had already moved onto the box and begun unwrapping it. She was desperate for a way to talk to Ginny again. Once the paper was off, she found a Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes gift box inside. She lifted the lid, and a sheet of parchment rested on top with the morse code translations on it for each alphanumeric character and the common punctuation. Ginny stood to look, and Hermione had the awkward chore of stepping aside so that Ginny didn't overlap with her physically. Ginny picked up the morse code parchment, studied it briefly, then set it aside. She pulled out the two books underneath next and frowned at them.

"What to Do When Your Invisible Friend Is Real," Ginny read, holding up the first book, which was thin and spectacularly yellow. "Guess that one's for me. Wonder what he got you." She shrugged and tossed her book on Hermione's bed, then looked at the other one, which was thick and striped a gaudy black and red. "Ten Titillating Tales of Trapped Trollops?!" Ginny said in an incredulous tone with increasing volume. "I've been wanting a copy for years, but Mum always told me I was too young! It's banned at Hogwarts, you know."

Hermione's jaw dropped, wondering what on earth inspired George to pick that for her. Perhaps there had been a mistake and the yellow book was for her after all? Ginny certainly was more the type to go for sleazy romances than she was, assuming these stories even were romances. Perhaps they were simply tales of pure smut. Hermione's mind boggled just trying to process it.

Ginny nearly ripped the cover in her haste to open it. "There's writing here too: Dear Hermione," Ginny started and sulked. "Looks like it is for you," she said with no small measure of disappointment. She returned to the note inside the book cover. "I thought long and hard on the most appropriate book to share with you. Then after dulling myself to tears, I thought to myself… where's the fun in that? So then I went for the most inappropriate book I could find relating to your circumstances. I hope it satisfies. I have been promised that it is amongst the most frequently banned books in young wizarding schools, and I have it on good authority that Filch passed out from fury the last time he confiscated a copy from a student. Best regards, George," Ginny finished with a thunderstruck expression. Her mouth opened and closed like a fish for a moment, then she glanced down at the book and blinked with surprise. "Oh, he wrote a postscript, hang on… PS: I understand that my youngest brother is the prattiest of the prats, and that you are now a single witch. Know that you are beautiful and could claim any wizard you desired, and I suspect Percy holds a soft spot if you're still particular to redheads and want to watch Ron cringe. Cheers!"

Ginny gaped at the book another moment, tossed it on the bed, and opened the yellow cover of her own book. "Dear Ginny, you're beautiful too, and Mum will have both our heads if she finds out you've read Hermione's book through me, so be a dear and hold your tongue. Love, George."

Hermione smirked as Ginny stared blankly at George's note a moment longer and then looked back to the gaudy book. "Oh Hermione, can I please read it first? I swear I'll never ask anything of you again."

Hermione grinned at her friend's antics. Gone was the anxiety from their clash over Malfoy yesterday, and Hermione half-wondered if George had planned this. Of course, George wouldn't have known of their conflict, and while he could be sneaky, his ambitions ran more towards explosive pranks than subtle relationship shifts. George wasn't exactly Malfoy.

Hermione flinched. Where had that come from?

"Come on, Hermione. Get the map so we can try this! I've been dying to talk to you!" Ginny fussed.

Hermione shook her head clear and pulled the map out from its hiding place, remembering this time to take advantage of her curse to save herself the trouble of removing the wards protecting the map and then setting them back up. She set the map on the bed, and a second later, Ginny noticed it and picked it up. Hermione tugged gently on the other side of it so Ginny knew she was there and ready.

"Okay, so we got the code. Err, can you tell me hi?" Ginny asked her.

Hermione checked the morse code translation. She gave the map four quick tugs for the h, paused, and gave it another two quick tugs for the i. Ginny bit her lip in concentration as she scanned the parchment with the translation. "Four dots… then two… You did it!" Ginny's jaw gaped in a wide smile, and she laughed. "You have got to tell me everything!"

Hermione grinned with excitement, but the thrill of finally being able to confide in Ginny flagged as she recalled her newfound feelings for Malfoy and desire to protect him… not to mention how actions Ginny took might leave Hermione worse off than before. Still, that didn't mean Hermione couldn't talk to Ginny about some things… and honestly, she wanted an outside perspective on whether her feelings for Malfoy were genuine or not. She had just been dumped by Ron, after all, and then found herself without interactive company from anyone but Malfoy…

Hermione set to work. She wished she could write down what she wanted to say and then code it, but with Malfoy's continued restriction on generally communicating without his permission, she knew the curse would prevent her. She blinked. The curse would prevent her, but she could still get Ginny to write things down, which would help both of them.

"Get a quill," Hermione said out loud. "So first g, which is two long pulls and a short one, and then an e…"

A couple minutes later, Ginny had received the full message. "Get a quill? Of course, er… _Accio_ parchment and quill," Ginny said, not bothering to get up from where she now sat beside Hermione. "Oh wait, I need my wand." She pulled out her wand and repeated the words, and the objects came tumbling towards them.

In this way, they continued their awkward conversation with the aid of the map and the morse code.

Ginny read what Hermione wrote and glared at it. "Oh come on, Hermione. I know I'm not Ron or Harry, but I can hold my tongue well as any of you. Certainly better than Ron can. What's going on? What's happened? Why are you like this?"

Hermione smiled at her friend, thankful that Ginny was still at Hogwarts, even if Ron and Harry weren't. She bit her lip, contemplating what exactly to share. "Lucius Malfoy cursed me. Draco cannot free me. Draco helping. Before Draco, I could not use wand or magic. I could not defend myself against him. Draco gave back wand, magic, and defense," she said, feeling awkward with the halting language used to minimize work on translation. It was so very different from how she usually spoke.

Ginny's eyes widened as she decoded and read what Hermione shared. She stared blankly at the words for a few moments after, simply processing. Hermione watched Ginny's frozen face and waited for the inevitable explosion of Ginny's reaction, but it never came. Ginny simply began shaking her head slowly. "I don't understand… I mean, I understand that Malfoy's father would curse you, but why would Malfoy help? And please don't tell me you call him Draco now," Ginny said, giving the space where Hermione was a dubious look. "That would be really weird, even if you two are growing chummy somehow."

Hermione got to work on the next response. "I call him Malfoy still. Malfoy claims moral code is reason. Nothing personal."

Ginny stiffened, clearly taken aback. "Malfoy? Moral code? Those do not belong in the same sentence. Are you sure he's not in on this?"

"Positive," Hermione coded to Ginny. Malfoy had his moments of being less than genuine, but she had no doubt that he was genuine in that respect. "There is more," she added when Ginny didn't respond right away. "Malfoy fears Azkaban from curse blame."

Ginny snorted. "Shocker there. So what?"

Hermione frowned. "Not his fault I am cursed. He wants to help me."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "He wants to help himself, Hermione. Surely you can see that. I mean, this is Malfoy, right? When has he ever done anything that wasn't incredibly self-serving? You said he can't free you, though I wonder at that. Likely, he's too afraid of his father to truly help you. Probably afraid he'll lose his inheritance or something… but he also knows that this may get uncovered, and if it does, he'll look a lot better for having shown kindness. You're gullible, Hermione, and the champion of lost causes. Err, I didn't mean to say it like that… please don't take it to heart. Still, it's all too easy to see you standing up in Malfoy's defense at his inevitable trial for hiding your cursed state. Let me guess, he's offered to be your friend too, right?"

Wincing away Ginny's blow to her pride since this was not the time or place to argue, Hermione thought back to all her conversations with Malfoy, wondering if maybe Ginny was onto something. Still, Hermione had sought Malfoy out. Hermione had been the one to suggest meals together. Hermione had been the one to follow Malfoy when Ginny was bothering him and protect him from Ginny. Hermione had been the one to rush to his dormitory when he was being investigated. She was the one who had come up with the letters idea, and then she had stayed after he had fallen asleep.

"Hermione?"

"Thinking," Hermione coded back to Ginny. Malfoy had responded to Hermione's gestures towards companionship in some ways… such as letting her know she could talk to him since she had no one else, and asking her to stay when she was fed up with his teasing, but… And there was this morning, when he had promised to be there for her since she was his responsibility and kissed her on the forehead. Hermione felt her eyes well up with tears again, and she sniffed.

Hermione took a deep breath and blew it out. She wanted to get Ginny's advice, and that meant telling Ginny how things were. "He has not. He feels responsible for me and pities me." Hermione's heart ached, trying to find the words to explain her feelings. Perhaps she should just tell Ginny what they did.

"I want to protect him," Hermione coded, not entirely certain if this was her original motivation, but it was true. "We agreed to say I had a crush on Malfoy."

Hermione wasn't done explaining, but Ginny startled at those words and jerked on the map, pulling Hermione with it. "Wait, what?" Ginny opened and closed her mouth. "But Hermione, who would ever believe such a thing? Everyone knows you two can't stand each other."

Hermione groaned and decided to skip over trying to convince Ginny of how plausible her plan was. "We wrote letters. Transfigured old notes to date the parchment and ink. Created evidence. Wrote confession. Up all night working."

Ginny frowned, clearly still going over this in her head. Hermione took her chance.

"Lie became real. I like him."

Ginny froze, petrified by what Hermione had communicated. "Wait, I decoded it wrong, didn't I?" Ginny said after a moment, awkwardly laughing at herself. "There's no way that's right. That's impossible."

Hermione winced. "I have a crush on Draco Malfoy," she carefully coded for Ginny.

"I don't… you can't… did he… What?" Ginny said, incredulous dismay marring her face. "How? When? But you and Ron…"

Hermione sighed and began coding again. "I need help. Started yesterday. Letters changed things. Malfoy is…" Hermione paused in coding, trying to think of how to say it. "Malfoy is good correspondent. Got to know him better. Wish I knew him sooner. Might be mutual. He asked me to stay when I got angry. Apologized."

"Malfoy apologized?" Ginny echoed. She shook her head clear and put one hand on top of the map, as if asking for Hermione to listen. "Let me get this straight. You and Malfoy made up a correspondence to trick everyone into thinking you had a crush on him all along, which, for the record, still makes no sense to me. You fell for Malfoy in the letters, he somehow made you angry, and then he apologized and asked you to stay?" Ginny returned her hands to holding the parchment.

"Yes," Hermione coded.

"This is going to sound really weird, but are you sure he didn't just see you for an easy shag?" Ginny asked.

"Yes," Hermione responded, and she wondered if she should tell Ginny that Malfoy had stopped himself when Hermione hadn't. "Moral code," she ended up adding. "He sees me as vulnerable. Felt wrong to take advantage."

"How would you know…" Ginny frowned, and then her eyes went wide. "You slept in his bed, didn't you? You were gone all night." Ginny tilted her head to the side as if struck by a stray thought. "Ron would lose his head if he knew. Harry too. But Hermione, what's come over you? Aren't you still a virgin? And why would you trust Malfoy with something like that, even if you fancy him?"

Hermione bit her lip, wondering how to explain. She was a virgin, though she didn't feel like discussing that particular fact with the little sister of the person she was most likely to have shagged. Not to mention opening the floodgates to that sort of talk might mean hearing about Harry's sex life, and Hermione wished to avoid that at all costs.

Ginny blew out a long breath, watching a long strand of her red hair fly away from her face and fall back down. "You never were very good at talking about this stuff for yourself, were you? Well, let's go back a step. You like Malfoy, so I expect you also like being with Malfoy. What do you like about being with Malfoy?"

Hermione considered this. Malfoy was handsome, but that was not what drew her, or she would have been drawn years ago. "I feel heard," she coded. "He listens well. He teases, but he teases my nature. My ideas are respected. He responds with logic. He respects my body," Hermione said, and her thoughts drifted to when Malfoy handed her the robe to better cover up in his room. "He is considerate. He is patient. He treats me like I matter," Hermione added, and tears came up again. She waited till they cleared so she could see before she coded more. "I spent months wondering if Ron cared. Malfoy cares for the wrong reasons, but he cares. I do not want to like him. He is cruel still. Manipulative snake. Words like venom. I cried, but he comforted me after."

Ginny took this all in. "You sound mental, Hermione. Malfoy's not like that… well, he is a manipulative and venomous snake, but the rest of it?" Ginny shook her head in disbelief. "Nevermind. I suppose it doesn't matter. It's hard to see a bloke properly when you're in a bad spot. So Ron ignored you for months before he dumped you, and now that Malfoy is paying attention to you and doing the things you wished Ron had done, you feel really strongly for him?"

Hermione nodded, but recalling Ginny couldn't see her, she tugged out the morse code: "Yes."

"You do realize you're just rebounding, right? You just said yourself that he's basically still an evil git to you. You're just using Malfoy to distract yourself from getting dumped by Ron… and the curse too, I suppose."

Hermione pinched her brow together, wondering if Ginny was right. Her attraction for Malfoy had come on rather suddenly, and exploring her dynamic with Malfoy had been a much more pleasant distraction than thinking about the curse or her breakup with Ron.

"I'm still shocked you fell for Malfoy. I get you didn't exactly have other options, but Hermione, it's _Malfoy._"

"War changed him," Hermione protested, using the map.

"The war didn't change his father," Ginny pointed out, but she sighed a moment later, and some of the fight left her eyes. "I suppose it has been a while since I last saw Malfoy bothering anyone." The corner of her lips quirked downward. "I've heard he stopped fighting back too." Ginny blinked wide, astonished eyes. "You knew! That's why you stopped me from hexing him. You knew he wouldn't protect himself."

Hermione didn't bother replying. They sat in silence, pondering the situation.

"He's still a prat though," Ginny said after a bit.

"Yes," Hermione coded.

"A cruel, spineless jerk who can't be trusted, Hermione."

"I know," Hermione replied, though she questioned that last bit. She did trust Malfoy in some ways.

"I think I get it. He's a lost cause himself. You like those. He's shown potential to change, and you've made him your new S.P.E.W. or whatever. Your new project."

Hermione didn't quite think Ginny was right, but it didn't matter, really. It didn't matter if she was rebounding. It didn't matter if he was her new project. It didn't even matter if she genuinely liked him, really. "I need to stay away from him, Ginny," Hermione coded.

"That we can agree on," Ginny said. "So what is this curse? Have you figured out how to break it yet?"

Hermione carefully filled Ginny in on everything she knew. The book on the bracelet, including the original purpose of the item.

"Bugger them all. That's disgusting!" Ginny exclaimed.

Hermione explained the limits of her curse, including why she could use the map to talk, but nothing else unless Malfoy wished it.

"Of course, you would find a loophole to an ancient curse, Hermione. You're brilliant!"

Hermione went into detail on the ideas she had for escaping the curse and also how they could go wrong if Malfoy found out what they were doing.

"Well potions isn't my best subject, but I'm sure we can find someone who can brew a decent polyjuice potion, and I'm sure Harry can get some hair from Malfoy's father's cell. Harry's an auror, after all, and he's Harry," Ginny added, recalling that Harry's fame likely carried as much weight as his position. "Let's try that one first. Neither Malfoy would ever need to know."

"Thank you," Hermione coded to Ginny, discovering a newfound appreciation for the girl she had always seen more as a little sister than a close friend.

"I'll write Harry right away, and I'll talk to Luna again too. You're not alone, Hermione. You've still got your friends, even if we can't see you."

Hermione nodded, smiling even as she felt tears of relief.

"McGonagall cannot know," Hermione warned. She knew McGonagall meant well, but she didn't trust the elderly witch not to give them away to Malfoy. McGonagall had many strengths, but bluffing certainly wasn't one of them. Malfoy would see through her in an instant.

Ginny barked a laugh. "I don't even plan to tell Ron. This will stay between Harry, Luna, and us. You just keep your distance from Malfoy while we get you freed. I'm sure you'll come back to your senses once you're back to normal."

Hermione sure hoped so.

"I mean, it's not like you sit next to him in class or anything, right?"

Class.

Hermione's heart froze in her chest, and she pulled out her timepiece with shaky hands.

She was late for class.


	23. Reparo

**Chapter 23 - Reparo**

Advanced Charms was well underway by the time Hermione made it back down from Gryffindor Tower and to the classroom. She paused outside the door, momentarily fearing the reactions her late entrance would cause, when she remembered likely no one but Malfoy had realized she was even absent. Nor would they, if she used her curse to slip through the door instead of opening it.

Hermione phased her way inside and found her fellow 8th year peers staring at a large pile of broken junk at the front of the class while Professor Flitwick went over the necessary theory to fix all the items at once with a single _reparo_ incantation. They had been going through each charm they knew and learning to apply them on a mass scale for quite some time now. The week they did the Dancing Feet charm, _Tarantellegra_, had been particularly chaotic.

"I think it's time we had someone try it. Miss Gra-, oh right. Perhaps Mister Finch-Fletchley could give it a go?" Professor Flitwick said.

Justin Finch-Fletchley stood up from his seat, waved his wand accordingly, and said, "_Reparo!"_

The pile of broken things shuffled around. Hermione saw several things become whole again on her way to her usual seat, but many more remained partially damaged or completely unaffected by his spell.

"Not bad for a first try. Not bad at all. Now, do it again. Let's see who can reassemble the pile with the least incantations," Professor Flitwick encouraged. "Miss Abbott, please keep a record of the incantations."

Justin screwed up his face with concentration, took a deep breath, and tried again to more, but not complete, success. In the end, he needed five incantations to complete the task, at which point Hermione could tell the broken items had been a mix of clocks, radios, cabinets, and dishes.

"Excellent job, Mister Finch-Fletchley," Professor Flitwick said as Justin sat back down. Flitwick waved his wand, and the pile of fixed items instantly became a broken mess again. "Now, who would like to go next?"

Hermione scanned the room to see who would raise their hand next. Her eyes fell on Malfoy, who sat across the room from her, but further in the back and to the side. He looked awful. His skin was even paler than usual except for the new dark circles under his sunken eyes. He looked at nothing in particular, but as she studied him, he grimaced in pain and rubbed his neck again. He froze, as if suddenly realizing what he was doing, pulled his arm down, rolled his shoulders, and scanned the others in the room.

Hermione ducked her eyes away before his own fell on her, but every hair on her arms stood anyway at the very thought of having been caught. She had just decided to keep her distance from Malfoy. Ginny encouraged it too, and yet here Hermione was, watching him in class instead of paying attention to the lesson.

The sound of objects breaking snapped Hermione's eyes back to the lesson, and Flitwick beckoned for another student to volunteer. Hermione hadn't even noticed which student had just completed the assignment.

Hannah Abbott had just stood and raised her wand when Professor Flitwick held up a hand for her to stop. Hermione followed Flitwick's gaze to Malfoy and found Malfoy's eyes on her own. "Mr. Malfoy, would Ms. Granger happen to be volunteering?"

Malfoy scowled briefly at Flitwick before glancing back to Hermione and raising his brow in question.

"I would like to try, if you'll allow it," Hermione said into the silence.

Malfoy didn't take his eyes off her. "What do you think? You know that swot never passes up a chance to show off. Granger, do us all a favor and just cast some bloody sparks or something next time you want attention in class."

Hermione's eyes lit up as the bells on her bracelet played a gentle tune in response to the new freedom. She immediately pulled out her wand. "_Vermillious,_" she cast, and a small jet of red sparks flew into the air above her.

"Well then," Flitwick said with a very satisfied and relieved expression. "Go on, Ms. Granger."

Hermione faced the pile of broken things and took a deep breath. If she hadn't spent the night transfiguring letters instead of getting a proper sleep, she would be confident of getting this done the first go. She had fixed several things at once many times over the last year, though perhaps not this many items at once before. The breakfast and shower had restored her somewhat though, and talking to Ginny had relieved some of the pressure on her shoulders.

Hermione waved her wand. "_Reparo,_" she said firmly, focusing on the entire pile of clutter instead. More than half of the items came back together instantly, but the remaining items still were missing pieces here and there. Hermione sighed in disappointment.

"Err, excellent work, Ms. Granger!" Flitwick praised, though his surprise at any broken items remaining was evident. "I expect you'll only need one more attempt to wrap it up."

Hermione cast it again, and as Flitwick predicted, this second attempt repaired everything left.

"Fantastic! Now, who's next? That's right, Ms. Abbott wanted to go." Flitwick destroyed the repaired items once again and continued the lesson.

Hermione sunk back down in her desk and stared at the broken pile in dismay. She had completed the previous practical challenges in one go. To fail her first attempt…

Hermione sighed and focused on how Harry and Ron might react. Likely, they would tease her for getting upset when she still did twice as well as any other student. Hermione smirked at that, already feeling the pressure released from her shoulders. She would master this skill before the N.E.W.T. exams. After all, she was drained, sleep-deprived, and cursed. Surely she could do far better once properly rested.

She really did miss Harry and Ron.

Hermione wrinkled her nose. Ron had just dumped her the other day in quite possibly the most pathetic fashion possible. According to everything she had heard and read about relationships, she should be heartbroken and furious. She should be going over their whole relationship in her head, trying to figure out what she did wrong or how she can win him back. She should scorn his very memory even as she clung to every souvenir of their time together.

She didn't.

Her heart was bruised, of course, but hardly broken. Really, she missed her friendship with him far more than she missed… well, the other stuff. Honestly, Ron had been a lousy kisser and an inattentive boyfriend all around. He had intentionally made her jealous, dismissed her ideas, and lost his temper with her so many times… Honestly, it was a relief that she wouldn't have to deal with all that anymore.

Hermione pursed her lips in contemplation. If she was relieved, then why did she still feel sad? Was it only that she might not be friends with Ron anymore? Of course, that was plenty of reason to be sad, but even still, she didn't really see this as a forever issue. Ron wouldn't hold this against her. Even his breakup communicated that he still cared about her, and Hermione expected he would still want her friendship, if only because he could hardly walk three steps without tripping over his own feet without her around. Hermione had no idea how he had managed to hang onto his auror position without her there.

Yes, Ron would still be her friend once the storm passed, so why had she been so upset? The shock of it? She had known it was likely coming.

Hermione frowned. She rather disliked having puzzles she didn't understand, and even more so when the puzzle was herself. She didn't understand her overnight attraction to Malfoy, and she didn't understand why she was upset to be dumped by Ron.

Of course, injury to pride factored into both. Having Ron find her inadequate was downright humiliating. She was the brightest witch of her year. Wasn't that worth anything? Of course, she wasn't perfect, and brilliance wasn't everything. Ron was perfectly within his rights to prefer a girlfriend who was… well… not her. Hermione took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

Malfoy's stab at her lack of social skills from the previous night came to mind, and her eyes drifted back to him. He was rolling his neck like he had a crick he couldn't quite clear out. He really ought to see Madam Pomfrey about that. Stubborn arse.

He was stubborn, infuriating, cruel, rude, and so many other things. She really would be better off avoiding him. After all, the tosser had the gall to call her self-absorbed and selfish. Perhaps not in those exact words, but that was certainly the right of it.

She wasn't so self-absorbed that she hadn't noticed how much his back hurt or that he'd likely never seek proper help on his own, and she wasn't selfish. She regularly helped others who couldn't help themselves. The fact that she hadn't wanted to massage the back of the most entitled wizard she knew when she was exhausted didn't make her selfish. It made her human, and she had held back from hurting him when he asked her to, hadn't she? Nevermind that, she had fought Ginny for him. She had raced to his room and hidden his books from McGonagall for him. She had worked late into the night for him. How dare he accuse her of not thinking of him?

Hermione scowled. Malfoy seemed determined to think the worst of her no matter what she did. He hadn't denied her accusation that he only tolerated her out of desperation for companionship. Every interaction only reinforced that she was better off giving up on trying to improve his opinion of her. Perhaps he didn't hate her, but he would certainly never like her.

Her eyes filled with tears of hurt frustration. Her resolve to stay away from him hardened, and yet… when he winced in pain merely from standing to perform _reparo_ for the class, she felt another resolve harden within as well.

She would help Malfoy, whether he wanted her to or not. She would simply have to do it in a way that would not bring them closer together.

Hermione considered her options while Professor Flitwick had each student perform the _reparo_ in class. By the time Malfoy was called, Hermione had realized two things: Malfoy absolutely needed to get his back looked at, and she could not afford the proximity that would be necessary to convince him to go willingly.

Therefore, she would simply have to drag him.

Hermione got her wand ready while Malfoy focused on repairing the pile of junk. She had to be careful. If her spellwork was too obvious, Professor Flitwick would likely intervene, and then Malfoy could defend himself against her and would likely take away her magic before she succeeded. However, if she knocked him unconscious at the right moment…

Hermione waited for the moment Malfoy finished his third _reparo_ and struck. "_Stupefy_," she said quietly, and Malfoy's body went limp and crumbled as he lost consciousness.

There was a mix of gasps and gossip immediately, and Professor Flitwick seemed completely at a loss for a moment. "Professor, should we innervate him?" asked Justin.

Professor Flitwick hesitantly began shaking his head, then shook it firmly as he pulled himself together. "No, I dare say Mr. Malfoy looked rather off this morning. Madam Pomfrey should take a look at him before we bring him back. Would someone please volunteer to bring Mr. Malfoy to the hospital wing?"

Hermione wasted no time in shooting off red sparks, indicating her interest. "_Wingardium Leviosa!" _she said, levitating Malfoy's body.

"I dare say it looks like Ms. Granger will handle it. Well then, let's carry on. Who else hasn't gone?"

Hermione smirked in victory, opened the door to the hallway, and levitated Malfoy out of the classroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the chapter, despite its brevity. Thank you for the previous reviews, and I hope you will review this one as well. Yes, you can complain that it's short and ends on a cliffhanger. This is what I could manage this week.
> 
> I regret to inform you that I am changing my posting schedule. Instead of every week, I will post every 2 weeks. Next update will be on Feb 21, 2020.
> 
> I am rebooting my life, so to speak. When I started posting this story, I was only well enough to function mostly normally about 20% of my days and required midday naps 50% of them. I have now been well enough to function without a midday nap every day for over a month. A lot went into that process, but I am now facing a point where my priority is sorting out a regular schedule to get back on track with my dissertation so I can graduate and return to work ASAP. Once the schedule is established, I expect I'll return to a weekly updating schedule, but for now, I need to step back from my hobbies and spend some extra time/energy on learning how to be human again.
> 
> Thanks so much for all your support!


	24. Floating

**Chapter 24 - Floating**

As Hermione sprinted down the corridors with Malfoy floating behind her like some sort of demented balloon, Hermione had the disturbing realization that she was truly an idiot. Of course, she had been completely knackered when she decided it would be a good idea to knock Malfoy unconscious and levitate him through Hogwarts to the hospital wing, but how would Madam Pomfrey know that Malfoy had back pain? Hermione certainly couldn't tell her, and she had been in the hospital wing enough to know that Madam Pomfrey didn't typically check such things.

Hermione grimaced in frustration as she levitated Malfoy towards the hospital wing as quickly as she dared. She had also, when formulating this plan, forgotten that Malfoy had put a timer on her ability to restrain him. Of course, knocking him unconscious might not technically count as a restraint, but Hermione didn't want to test her luck on a technicality.

The halls were not empty, and Hermione had to do some quick wandwork to avoid having Malfoy bludgeon a group of shocked third-years she passed. Under other circumstances, the reactions of her Hogwarts peers to Malfoy's limp form zooming down the corridors would have provided immense amusement, but really, she was just thankful they didn't try to intervene on Malfoy's behalf.

Hermione's chest burned from her run. How long had it been? How much further did she have to go? Would she make it before Malfoy woke up and took back her ability to curse him?

Hermione would have scowled if she weren't so busy trying to breathe. Who knew how Malfoy might retaliate, but she had no doubt that he would. To think she was doing this for his own good… She must be barmy. She certainly never wanted to hear him say she only thought of herself again.

She rounded another corner with Malfoy and cried out in alarm as she watched Malfoy's body barrel into Luna Lovegood at full-speed. Hermione stumbled over her own feet in her effort to stop and collapsed, heaving. Luna, true to her ethereal nature, did not cry out like most would when she crumbled with Malfoy to the ground. Instead, Luna simply stared at the unconscious Malfoy with wide eyes, then pulled herself back up and scanned the corridor, as if looking for something or someone.

"She's looking for me, isn't she?" Hermione said to herself after she caught her breath. She slowly stood back up and searched for her wand, which she realized was no longer in her hands.

"_Accio _Hermione Granger's wand," Luna said suddenly, and Hermione watched as her wand flew from the floor nearby to Luna's grasp. As soon as Luna held it, Luna pointed her own wand at it. "_Prior Incantato_," she said. Hermione and Luna watched as echoes of _Wingardium Leviosa, Vermillious, Stupefy, Reparo, _and _Vermillious_ appeared in that order. At Luna's feet, Malfoy began to groan and pull himself together.

Luna aimed her own wand at Malfoy just as his eyes opened to look at her. "_Stupefy_," she said with a small smirk, and Malfoy slumped back over. "Good morning, Hermione. My scatterblot said this would be an auspicious time to walk the corridors," she said conversationally before casting her own _Wingardium Leviosa _on Malfoy. "Now, where to?" Luna asked as if she hadn't just cursed Malfoy with no instructions whatsoever from Hermione other than the last spells in Hermione's wand.

Hermione gaped, not sure how to address this. Luna clearly intended to help her, but Hermione had no way of speaking with Luna… She wasn't even certain she would be allowed to reclaim her wand from Luna, since Malfoy had only given her permission to reclaim the map. Hermione walked over to where Luna stood by Malfoy's levitated form and attempted to touch her wand. Her grasp went right through it, and Hermione groaned.

"That's right," Luna said. "The curse prevents you from communicating directly, but Ginny did tell me there were ways around it, including morse code. She gave me the translation just a few minutes ago." She frowned and set Hermione's wand on the ground. Hermione eagerly reclaimed it now that the curse allowed it. "You sent sparks out earlier. Can you do so now?"

Hermione cast the spell. She could see the sparks, but Luna did not react to them. Hermione was not very surprised. Malfoy had said they were to be used in the classroom only. Hermione wondered if she might use them in any classroom, which would give her another opportunity to communicate. It would certainly be worth testing later, provided Malfoy didn't outright take her wand away for forcing him to Madam Pomfrey.

Luna gently set Malfoy back down on the ground, shoved her wand behind her ear, and dug into her bag. After a moment, she pulled out a very familiar, yet bizarre, pair of glasses that Hermione had not seen in many years. What had Luna called them? Spectral Glasses? Luna put them on, looked around, and frowned with disappointment. "The spectrespecs were only designed to reveal wrackspurts, but I had hoped they might reveal you as well. Can you drop your wand again? I want to see something." She took off the spectrespecs and put them back in her bag.

Hermione dropped her wand without question. She and Luna were never very close despite not having many other friends, but she knew Luna was clever and trustworthy. She also rather suspected she knew what Luna was getting at, and if Luna was right...

Luna's eyes immediately went to the wand when it clattered against the ground. "I thought so. Pick it up again?"

Hermione picked it up again, and Luna pulled out a copy of the morse code translation from her bag. "That will do it. I suppose you don't need me to explain that waiting to pick it up can be a long dash, and picking it up immediately can be a short dash, correct?"

Hermione took the time to spell out, "Of course," in morse code using her wand and Luna's own copy of the translation. Hermione had left her copy with the map, not thinking it would be relevant away from it.

Luna smiled serenely. "I look forward to chatting with you again, Hermione."

A few minutes of wand-dropping morse code later, Hermione and Luna were walking along the corridors together towards the hospital wing at a comfortable pace with Malfoy stupefied and levitated by Luna. They could not easily maintain the correspondence while moving, but Luna was quite happy to chat at Hermione regardless.

"I'm so very delighted to have found another method for communicating with you," Luna said. "I spoke with Ginny this morning during our study break, and I think I have an idea for a way to speed up the translation process. I do hope spending so much time with only Malfoy to speak to has not been very awful for you. He is rather off-setting on the surface, but he is not truly cruel."

"He imprisoned you at his manor!" Hermione blurted out in response before she remembered Luna couldn't hear her.

Luna smiled serenely. "I expect you're recalling that I was imprisoned in his home, but that was how I discovered his kindness. He dared not trust Mister Ollivander with his disgust at the circumstances, but he knew well that my word would never be taken seriously, and he was rather lonely. The other Death Eaters were very cruel, after all."

Hermione froze in step a moment as her heart thudded with an odd sense of deja vu. Had she not felt something similar before developing her feelings for Malfoy? Had Luna discovered feelings for Malfoy as well?

Luna walked on with no awareness that Hermione had fallen behind, and Hermione had to jog to catch back up. "He would stun Mister Ollivander on his way in and then sit with me to chat until someone came, and, of course, he would have to be cruel to me then, but he never meant it. It was very sweet, in a way. I felt rather sorry for him."

Deep breath in. Deep breath out. Hermione struggled to breathe despite her tightening chest. Malfoy's relationship with Luna was none of her business. On an objective level, she even could recognize that this was a good thing. Malfoy had been looking for allies, and Luna was a touch odd, but there was no question that Luna would see Malfoy exactly for who he was and not at all for his title or past. Luna was simply like that. Luna had always been like that. Luna was even pureblooded, so Malfoy had no reason to look down on her blood status… unlike Hermione.

Hermione felt her eyes water as bitter jealousy stabbed her heart. "This is a good thing," she muttered to herself. "You don't belong in his world. You don't even want to be in his world, not really." She wanted nothing to do with the snobbery of the wizarding elites who were too paranoid to even see a mediwitch when their back hurt for fear of exposing a weakness. It seemed a miserable way to live.

Malfoy's blond head brushed up against her as Luna slowed down around a bend, and Hermione reflexively smoothed his hair out from where it had fallen in his face. His hair was soft, and Hermione felt the trickle of a tear down her face. She clenched her fists against the flood of emotion as she continued walking and tried desperately to recall the conversation she had with Ginny just earlier that morning, but the fog of her fatigue and stress prevented her from recalling more than the impression that she had decided to distance herself from Malfoy. The details escaped her.

"You already decided this, Hermione Jean Granger. You committed to stay away from him. He's bad news for you, and it's too much too soon." That's right. She had despised him not even three days ago now. The absurdity of her intense affection for him after having ignored him most of the school year struck her suddenly. "I must be mad as a hatter… A complete nutter. Has the curse deprived me of all common sense?"

It was with great relief that Hermione found the doors to the hospital wing when she looked up from her diatribe.

"We've reached the hospital wing now," Luna said and paused at the door. She opened the double doors and carefully levitated Malfoy inside. Hermione followed them and noted that Luna held the doors open a few seconds longer before shutting them, likely making sure Hermione had had time to come through.

Madam Pomfrey had been at the bedside of a second year Hufflepuff boy who appeared to have branches for arms and roots for feet, but she hurried over when she saw Luna and Malfoy come in and eyed the stunned, floating Malfoy warily. "May I help you?"

"Draco Malfoy has back pain," Luna Lovegood explained. "Which bed should I put him on?"

Madam Pomfrey's jaw wobbled, as if she wasn't quite sure what the appropriate response was. "Err, any free one should be fine. Why, precisely, is Mr. Malfoy arriving unconscious and levitated if all that troubles him is a bad back?"

Hermione stayed back, wondering if she should leave now or wait until she knew Malfoy's back was treated. She wobbled on her feet from exhaustion, and she longed to sit down and rest. Her heart warred within her, longing to discover the extent of Luna's relationship with Malfoy while eager to escape his presence… and yet she also needed to know how he would respond to her impulsive decision to force treatment upon him.

Luna lowered Malfoy gently onto an empty cot. Once Malfoy was settled, Luna faced Madam Pomfrey. "I didn't ask. Would you like me to?"

Madam Pomfrey frowned, confusion etched into every crease of her face. "Ask who? Mr. Malfoy?"

"Oh no," Luna said and smiled. "Hermione, of course. She's the one that originally stunned and levitated him, after all. I just bumped into them and decided to help when she said he needed to see you for his back."

Madam Pomfrey's eyebrows shot up. "You say Ms. Granger did this to Mr. Malfoy? Ms. Lovegood, are you certain it wasn't Peeves up to his usual antics?"

"Quite certain, though I suppose I could be wrong. Hermione? What kind of umbrella stand was at the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix?"

Hermione frowned, walked closer, and began the tedious process of spelling out 'troll leg' in morse code by dropping her wand repeatedly next to Luna. Luna held out her own translation sheet and tracked Hermione's wand appearances to each letter while Madam Pomfrey looked on in bewilderment.

"Troll leg. That's correct," Luna confirmed after a moment before putting down the translation to eye Madam Pomfrey. "You see, I don't think it very likely Peeves would know such a thing, though I could be mistaken. Should I ask her why she stunned and levitated Malfoy to bring him here? The answer does seem rather obvious though."

"Does it?" Madam Pomfrey replied vaguely.

"Yes. She was either protecting him from the grindelwisps that like to plague the halls and leap on the backs of unsuspecting students, which worsens back pain, or she knew he would not come willingly." Luna crossed her arms and tapped her chin thoughtfully. "I wonder which one it was."

Hermione shook her head in disbelief, amazed at Luna's tenacious fascination with all things imaginary. Madam Pomfrey seemed equally mystified, though she quickly blinked and focused back on Malfoy. "Well, in that case, perhaps I should run diagnostics and treatment before I innervate him."

"I'll see myself out then," Luna said and began walking away.

"Wait," Madam Pomfrey cried, turning to Luna once more. "Might you teach me how you communicated with Ms. Granger? I would like to know if she's staying, among other things."

"Of course," Luna said, returning to Madam Pomfrey's side.

Hermione watched as Luna pulled out the page and touched her wand to it. "_Geminio_," Luna said, and a duplicate immediately appeared. Hermione's jaw dropped. Why hadn't she thought to do that for herself? Luna handed the copy to Madam Pomfrey and gave Madam Pomfrey a quick rundown of how it worked. "And so you see, when Hermione leaves her wand on the ground longer, it is a long dash, and when she picks it up quickly, it is a short dash."

"Perhaps I might try it before you go?" Madam Pomfrey asked next. Malfoy began to stir behind her, and with a quirked frown, Madam Pomfrey quickly turned, cast a wordless _stupefy_, and Malfoy collapsed back into the cot. Madam Pomfrey cleared her throat. "Hermione, will you stay a bit longer for us to chat?"

Hermione smirked at Pomfrey's casual handling of Malfoy and began the process of communicating she would stay.

"Okay, so that was a y… an e? And an s, she said yes!" Madam Pomfrey announced with delight and triumph. Hermione grinned at Pomfrey's exuberance.

"That was very well done, Madam Pomfrey. You will need to keep this from Draco, however. Hermione does not want him to know," Luna said.

Madam Pomfrey frowned, glanced at the translation sheet, then looked to Malfoy. "I see. Well, Hermione, you are welcome to sit in the next cot over while waiting for me to finish with Malfoy, and then I hope to have quite a conversation with you. This curse you are under is the like I've never heard of in all my years as a healer!"

Luna began to head for the exit, but then paused by the cot that contained the 2nd year Hufflepuff student, who had been very quietly watching everything. "I don't think you'll say anything about this, will you, Rowan?"

The boy shook his head slowly and carefully in such a way that Hermione was not sure whether the child feared or respected Luna more, and Hermione rather wondered what Luna had done to make such an impression on the younger student who was not even in Luna's house.

Luna beamed. "I knew I could trust you. Thank you!" she said, and exited the hospital wing.

Hermione watched with amusement and interest as Madam Pomfrey also seemed to need a moment to recover from Luna's ways before focusing again on her patient. "Well, let's see what's going on with Mr. Malfoy's back," Madam Pomfrey said, and diagnostic spells floated up above Malfoy, appearing and disappearing more quickly than Hermione could track. "Good, no curses other than the stunning curse. No illnesses. He has been drinking. Unexpected, given the hour, but nothing too dangerous. He does have fatigue, however, and like you said, lots of back pain. Well, nothing a little wandwork can't fix."

Madam Pomfrey waved her wand in a series of intricate maneuvers while muttering incantations under her breath, and Hermione found herself wishing Madam Pomfrey would slow down and explain what she did so that Hermione could learn as well, but really, her eyelids were so heavy, and she was so very tired. Hermione yawned and only realized she had stretched out on the cot when her head fell against the pillow.

Madam Pomfrey pulled up the diagnostics again and said something, looking back at the cot Hermione was in as if she expected Hermione to listen. However, Hermione found she was far too tired to comprehend much of anything. Of course, she needed to stay awake, for some reason. That's right, Madam Pomfrey had questions for her, and she had forced Malfoy here against his will. She should be awake to know how he reacted and how many of her freedoms he would take away in his fury.

Of course, that meant she might not be able to answer Madam Pomfrey's questions after all. How awkward.

Hermione yawned again.

Well, at least Malfoy's back wouldn't hurt him anymore, and he would know she had done something for him that did nothing to benefit her. She could also let Malfoy know that Luna was someone he could trust too, and then that would be another thing she had done for him. Did the curse compel her to do things for him? That didn't seem right. No, she had been annoying him all night, hadn't she? That was why he had been so angry. Maybe he wouldn't be angry now.

Hermione smiled at that thought and realized her battle against sleep was futile. She was exhausted, and whatever Malfoy did or felt would happen regardless of whether she was awake for it or not. She closed her eyes.

"_Rennervate!_" Madam Pomfrey announced. There was a bright flash of red light that forced Hermione's eyes open just in time to see Malfoy's eyes blink open and hone in on hers from the cot next to hers. Then sleep took her, and she knew no more.


	25. Rennervate

**Chapter 25 - Rennervate**

"_Rennervate_."

Hermione winced and slowly opened her eyes to find a starry canopy above her. Her brow furrowed as she tried to sort out where she was. She had seen this canopy before, but it wasn't hers.

It hit her. "Malfoy," she gasped and bolted upright in his bed. She was in his room again, alright, placed on his bed on top of his covers. Malfoy leaned against the bedpost at the foot of the bed with wand in hand and watched her. His expression was stormy and cold, and all too quickly, the memories of the night prior flooded back to her. They had teamed up to mislead the aurors about their relationship before the curse to their mutual benefit. Hermione had learned more about Malfoy in that one night than her prior 7 years at Hogwarts with him, and she had gotten carried away with her interest only to be insulted and rejected. They had fought. He had called her selfish. She had been an idiot and decided to prove him wrong by stunning him and dragging him to the hospital wing to get his back treated when he refused to go on his own, and she had fallen asleep there.

Malfoy must have brought her to his room after he regained consciousness. Based on his expression, he clearly intended to interrogate her or explode at her. After all, she had ignored his express wishes to avoid the hospital wing and stunned him repeatedly to get him there.

Hermione's eyes fell to her lap and blinked furiously as she felt tears try to form. She must be the most barmy, irresponsible nutter out there. She had succeeded in proving to herself that she could prioritize Malfoy's well-being, but for what? He'd likely take her wand away if he hadn't already… same for her access to magic.

With a sinking heart, she checked her pockets for her wand and found them empty. She shuddered and took a deep breath, pushing away the fury she felt on the discovery. She had made this bed, and she would lie in it. Arguing with Malfoy would only make it worse, and she was tired of fighting anyway. He would say his piece, and then she would leave and avoid him. Exhausted both physically and emotionally, she collapsed backwards onto the bed and covered her eyes with her arms. "How's your back?" she asked, not knowing what else to say.

Malfoy snorted, and she heard him walk closer. "Really? Is that all you have to say?" he asked in a voice like jagged ice.

His tone gouged into her heart. The friendly comradery they had established the night before was most definitely gone. That was okay though. She had expected this… counted on it, even, as she considered whether to stun him or not in Charms class. She needed distance from him to protect her heart long-term. She wasn't so daft as to expect him to remain interested in knowing her when she escaped the curse.

Luna's kind words regarding Malfoy floated back to her, and Hermione recalled her discovery that Luna might be exactly what Malfoy had been looking for. "I found an ally: Luna Lovegood."

"Yes, I heard. I expect I'll have to deal with her soon enough for dragging me around unconscious within sight of half the school," Malfoy snarled.

Hermione winced. She had somehow forgotten about that detail of their adventure. "No, I mean an ally for you," she said, pulling her arms back to lean on her elbows and look up at Malfoy. His eyes were dark with fury, but he was listening. "I know Luna's rather… dotty, but she thinks well of you. She said you were kind to her when she was a prisoner." Malfoy's eyebrows lifted slightly with surprise, and Hermione took a deep breath. "You were looking for someone you could trust. An ally who wouldn't judge you for your position or background. Luna fits." Hermione considered forcing a smile, but her mouth only twitched when she tried. "You wouldn't have to be lonely anymore," she clarified, looking him in the eyes.

Malfoy flinched and took a step back, eyeing her warily, like she had suddenly turned into a snake and he expected her to strike him. After a moment, he took several steps closer to her, stopping at her side, and slipped his hands in his pockets as he peered down at her. "Interesting. I thought you intended to claim that role."

The wry smile that followed came naturally to Hermione. "I found that I'd rather not have a relationship that you wouldn't maintain after the curse," she reminded him and sat all the way up to better maintain eye contact. Of course, when they had spoken of their non-relationship last, she had been referring to physical intimacy with him, but this was the same. She knew her heart would get caught up in things and eventually be shredded when he rejected her after she escaped.

His eyes narrowed at her, and he bent at the waist slightly to lean closer to her. "_After_ the curse?" he asked softly.

Hermione swallowed and maintained eye contact in silent defiance even as he twisted to sit down beside her on the bed. He raised his brow briefly in acknowledgement of her silence and turned his attention to his pockets. He pulled out a wand and began twirling it in his hands, pausing it every so often to examine it. With a gasp, Hermione realized it was her wand he pulled out this time.

"You certainly are brilliant," he said, still looking away from her. "I've thought about it for some time now, and I still can't sort out how you managed to talk to Lovegood and Madam Pomfrey," he said.

Hermione's heart dropped into her stomach with fear. If Malfoy knew she could communicate… but then… how was this different than before? He had her wand. He had power over her access to magic. However, even without her wand and magic, she could still communicate using the map. At least, she could for now…

"It's a shame, really," Malfoy continued. "You're more interesting when you have your wand and magic, but you're far too clever for your own good." He twisted to face her. "Tell me, Granger. What am I supposed to do with you?"

Tension tugged at every nerve in Hermione's body. How was she supposed to answer that? He had all the power. She wanted freedom from the curse. They already knew he couldn't give her that. "What do you want me to say?" she blurted as hot tears came to her eyes. She wiped them with the back of her hand and scowled in disgust at the reminder of the bracelet on her wrist when it jingled in front of her eyes. She shook it at him. "I want to be free of this. Do you expect me to apologize for finding ways to talk to my friends again? Do you expect me to give up on escaping this curse?"

She brought her arm back down and studied his face. Malfoy was rigid as stone, his face carefully masked of everything but strain.

Hermione shook her head. "I don't want to depend on your generosity to see my friends, to have my wand, to use my magic… I don't want you to be the only person I can have any sort of normal relationship with… to... " She cringed. "To be my only option for physical intimacy. I don't want you to feel obligated to be responsible for me either." She took a deep breath, and tears rolled freely down her cheeks. "I'm not going to beg for my wand back, Malfoy." He didn't respond. She scrunched up her face in frustration at his silence and wiped her face again, ignoring the bracelet this time. She expected he wanted to know how she circumvented the curse in exchange for her wand, but the cost was too much. Surely he would stop it if he knew how, and if she couldn't talk to Ginny, how would she get help breaking the curse? Furthermore, she would lose her mind if Malfoy were her only company… and likely her heart as well. "If that's all, I'll return to my room," Hermione finished in a shaky voice.

His hand gripped her wrist even as she leaned forward to get off the bed. She sighed, sat back, and stared at him, waiting.

"I don't know how you're communicating with others," he said. His eyes were as hard as steel, and though he did not hurt her, his hand was like a vise around her wrist. Barely restrained emotion defined every visible muscle and tendon.

Hermione had had enough. "Piss off, Malfoy."

Malfoy stared at her, studying her eyes for something, though she couldn't fathom what. His grip tightened slightly, then he released her with a growl. "Do you want to throw your wand away? What kind of witch are you?" Malfoy asked and sneered.

Hermione ignored him, pulled her legs to her, and carefully swung them around to avoid bumping into Malfoy in her quest to escape him. His arm shot out to block her path just as she put her legs down over the side of the bed. "Malfoy," Hermione said in a warning tone.

"We're not done here. You need your wand," he hissed, glaring at her, as if this were somehow her fault.

Hermione scoffed. "Well as you have my wand and haven't seen fit to return it, I don't see much point in staying. What do you want from me, Malfoy? I won't plead for your amusement."

His face curled with disgust. The hand in front of her clenched into a fist, and he slammed it down into the bedding between them. "Why would I want you to beg and plead? I'm trying to help you, Granger, but I can't if you won't tell me how you're communicating!"

Hermione paused at that and blinked to clear her thoughts before facing him again. "Why would you want to help me? We were never friends. By your own declaration, I have been incredibly self-absorbed and rude with you. Furthermore, I stunned you, repeatedly, mind you, and floating your limp arse across half the school to the hospital wing to get treated against your will this morning. If I had done that to Ron or Harry, they would be angry and avoid me for weeks. You should want nothing to do with me!"

Malfoy's lips parted in a frown, and he pulled his brow together in a look of disturbed disbelief. "Avoid you for weeks!? Potter and Weasley, your supposed best friends, avoided you for weeks whenever they were upset with you? No wonder you're so mental. You glued yourself to the two biggest bloody wankers in all of England!"

Hermione choked out a laugh. Who would have ever thought Malfoy would be angry at her friends on her behalf? Though this wasn't the first time, was it? Hadn't something like this happened the night before? "They're not all bad. They still stood by my side when no one else did," Hermione reminded him. "They defended me from _you_."

The indignant wrath melted from Malfoy. He sighed, looked away, and scratched the back of his neck. "Point. We were all bloody wankers. You still deserve better, and in my defense, they were half the reason I bothered you. It's not like I went after every muggle-born witch and wizard in our year."

Hermione's eyes widened. He was right. She had never seen Malfoy go after Justin Finch-Fletchley, though Justin was muggle-born too and in their year. "If my friendship with Harry and Ron was half the reason, what was the other half?"

Malfoy scowled at her. "You were ahead of me in everything but flying class! Do you have any idea how much Father bothered me about being outdone by a mu-" He winced. "By a muggleborn!?"

Hermione broke into laughter at that. She couldn't help it. It was such a simple, ridiculous reason for teasing.

"Oh shut up," he groaned when he realized her reaction, but he was fully relaxed now, his shoulders soft and his hand loose where it rested between them. He tilted his head back and studied her at an angle. "You're also an insufferable know-it-all, like Snape would say, but you're not all bad."

"Is that meant to make me feel better?" Hermione asked. She wasn't quite sure if her question was sincere or sarcastic.

The corner of Malfoy's mouth twitched up, and his features brightened, as if he suddenly had an idea. "Since you won't talk yet, there is one thing I can check," he said. He placed her wand in his lap, pulled his own wand back out, and cast the incantation to see what spells she had cast with her wand. He frowned as he saw the levitation spell used. "_Wingardium leviosa_? Really? Why not _mobilicorpus_?"

Hermione shuddered, recalling a muggle family against the dark mark in the sky at the Quidditch World Cup. "Bad memories."

"Hm," Malfoy acknowledged with mild surprise, though he didn't comment more. As more stuns and levitations came out, he continued. "To be clear, I am angry with you. Livid, really. However, I'm a Malfoy, and I was raised to set my feelings aside when they would interfere with my ambitions."

"I expect you got in a lot of trouble for going after Harry so much then," Hermione said as her wand issued forth echoes of _reparo_ from Charms class.

Malfoy smirked. "A bit. Father was rather disappointed I hadn't managed to befriend the most influential child after myself when starting Hogwarts. Of course, Father was no shining example himself of such tactics, except for when he shoved his family aside to gain the Dark Lord's favor." Malfoy's expression darkened even as the light of Hermione's wand illuminated him. He reached the point of watching echoes of their endless transfiguration spells on the letters the night prior and ended the spell. "Mother is much better about such things. She always puts family first."

Hermione listened in silence, feeling like she had just witnessed something very rare and precious. She bit her lip, wondering if she should offer comfort, and if so, how?

Malfoy frowned at Hermione's wand and offered it back to her. "I thought you might have spelled words in the air with the red flare spell I granted, but that's not the case." He saw her hesitation to reclaim her wand and rolled his eyes. "Go on. I've no cause to deprive you of your magic as is."

Hermione took back her wand carefully, and her heart raced when their hands brushed each other in the process. "Thank you," she said. She chewed her lip, wondering that he would trust her with her wand again when he was angry and she had clearly circumvented his intentions in several ways. "What would you do? Would you keep me from talking to my friends?"

Malfoy raised an eyebrow and sucked his bottom lip into his mouth as he studied her eyes for several long moments before slowly trailing down her face to her lips, neck, breasts, hips, and hands, which rested in her lap over her wand. He looked at her hands the longest, then twisted off the bed in a smooth motion only to crouch before her. "I need to show you something," he warned, and then his hands were over her own on her wand so that they both held it. Hermione felt Malfoy direct warm magic into the wand.

Golden sparks shot out the tip.

"How did you..?" Hermione started to say. Her eyes bugged and her jaw gaped with her astonishment. She had borrowed Ron's and Harry's wands before in a pinch, and they had worked, but she felt their resistance to her. They certainly wouldn't have shot out gold sparks in response to her magic. "I don't understand."

"Your wand responds to me," he said calmly, as if he had not just done something extraordinary. "Mine was left behind in Charms class, so I used yours to get you out of the hospital wing." He frowned. "I don't know much about wand lore, but I know it's difficult to master someone's wand if you haven't conquered them in battle. Theo and I once made a bet back in second year on who could use more wands."

"How many could you use?" Hermione asked.

"Only a few, and still very poorly until I defeated them in combat first to trick Theo." Hermione glared at his casual admission of cheating, and he smirked in response. "Slytherin, remember? I wanted those chocolate frogs." He looked back down at the wand. "Yours is the first that ever accepted me fully."

Hermione twisted her mouth in thought. She did not like what he was implying… Not that she quite knew what he was trying to imply. "The curse makes me subservient to you. Likely, my wand responds to you because of that," she said.

Malfoy froze, as if he had not considered that. He stood, pulled out his own wand, and switched it with hers in her hands. "Your turn," he ordered and crossed his arms.

Hermione gave him a dubious look, stared at the much larger wand in her hands, and sighed. "Wouldn't the very act of offering it to me change how the wand responds?" she asked.

"It didn't with the others. Crabbe and Goyle practically tripped over each other to offer me their wands when I suggested it."

Hermione sulked. She didn't want to do this. She didn't want to give herself more reasons to feel tied to Malfoy, and she could tell by the way the wand hummed in her hands that it was not nearly as opposed to her as she would expect. She looked up again at Malfoy, saw in his eyes that he would not give up on this, and closed her eyes as she sent some of her magic into the wood. She knew without opening them that she had succeeded and offered his wand back to him, which he traded with his own.

"What does this mean?" she asked, disappointed and disturbed that she could not seem to escape Malfoy.

"I don't know," Malfoy said. He sat back down beside her, closer this time, and poked at the bracelet on Hermione's wrist. "The curse connected us, but it didn't force us to work together. We chose that, and we did it well. You found a way to communicate, and you chose to focus on fixing my back instead of dragging the Wizengamot down on my family." He clasped his hands in front of him and tilted his head to look back and up at her. His hair fell into his face, and Hermione's hands itched to brush it away for him like she had done this morning when he was stunned. He was so close to her, and his brow pinched together when he asked her, "Why?"

Hermione bit her bottom lip. She had expected him to be too furious to ask why. What should she say? The truth? That she had gotten so angry at his claim that she cared only for herself that she went to an extreme to prove him wrong in a moment of insanity? That she had considered his anger a good thing in creating distance she desperately needed between them? Of course, that plan had failed spectacularly, given that apparently Malfoy considered such tactics beneath him.

"You're far too clever to have done it on a whim," Malfoy said.

Hermione snorted. "That's rather closer to the truth than I would like to admit, to be honest," she said, deciding to dash it all and just give up trying to be clever. Perhaps reality and blunt honesty would be enough to discourage Malfoy from… whatever he was on about with compatible wands. She took a deep breath and dropped her usual conversation filters, the ones that kept her from sounding entirely too much like a rambling know-it-all.

"I wasn't thinking properly. I was too knackered and angry at what you had said. We were sitting there in class. I was distracted from being late. You were clearly suffering, stretching every which way and grimacing, and I knew you wouldn't go on your own, so I stunned you at an opportune moment to make it look like you fainted… you know, since they can't see my spellwork anyway without your permission… I expected they wouldn't be able to tell that I had cast a spell on you. Anyway, it worked, and then I shot off red sparks when Flitwick asked for volunteers to bring you to the hospital wing, and that was everything, really. I knew you would be angry, but I didn't think about how you might take my wand and magic away until I was already in the hallway with you, and at that point, it was too late to back out."

Hermione blushed at the bewildered expression on Malfoy's face. "So you see, I wasn't being clever at all." She yawned. Now that she had her wand back and Malfoy had calmed down, her exhaustion was catching up with her.

Malfoy's eyes narrowed. "You didn't actually say why you did it."

Hermione winced. He wanted to hear more? Normally, her friends tuned her out when she began waffling on like that, but Malfoy… He was more attentive than ever, if possible. Hermione swallowed, feeling like a sandcastle before the tide. Malfoy turned everything on its head. "Err… I was angry about what you said. I wanted to prove that I wasn't. Selfish, that is." She paused to take a deep breath and collect her thoughts. "I wanted to prove that I wasn't selfish, which is preposterous, really, given that I was being selfish in not respecting your wishes, but I wasn't thinking about that at the time, just that your back was hurting and you wouldn't take care of it on your own."

Malfoy finally took his eyes off her to lean backwards and look up at his canopy. Hermione slumped in relief and took the opportunity to put her wand away. Her head hurt from trying to make sense of Malfoy and everything that had happened, and she feared how tempting she found the idea of curling back up in Malfoy's bed to take a nap. Would he mind?

"Where did Lovegood come in?" Malfoy asked her, breaking the silence.

Hermione blinked and yawned again. She had been staring at the pillow. "Luna? I ran into her in the corridors. Well, technically, you ran into her. I would have gone right through her." Her eyelids felt heavy, and she started to sink and caught herself. Should she ask first or just lie down? What was the correct course of action when you were being interrogated in the bedroom of your former-enemy-turned-crush after staying up all night with them? She shrugged and pulled her legs onto the bed before lowering herself back down.

Malfoy smirked at her with an incredulous expression. "Fancy yourself a kip in my bed, Granger? Go right ahead then. Thanks for asking."

"Piss off, Malfoy. I'm knackered," Hermione said, taking his sarcasm as a sign he wouldn't actually kick her out before she got some shuteye.

"I'm not done with you," Malfoy reminded her, scooting closer to maintain eye contact.

Hermione rolled her eyes and pulled herself under the covers, then realized she still wore her school robes, though her Mary Janes were gone and had been since she woke. "Where are my shoes?" she asked. She had them on in the hospital wing.

"By the door with mine. You didn't think I would soil my own bed by putting you down with them on, did you? I took them off when you came in."

Hermione chuckled to herself that he would remember that sort of detail despite everything else. It seemed like something she would do. Likely, the boys would tease her for it too. Frustrating as her situation was, there was something rather heartwarming in finding someone else who paid attention to details, even if it was Malfoy.

"What?" Malfoy complained in an offended tone, leaning over her. "Do the Weasels wear their shoes to sleep? Can't afford proper bedding? Why are you wearing your cloak, anyway? It's not that cold in here. Give it to me. I'll put it on the stand with mine."

Hermione rolled her eyes at his casual jab at her friends, but when he stood up and held out a hand for her cloak, she sat back up, pulled her own off, and handed it to him. She then pulled out her wand and left it on the table next to her so that it wouldn't jab her in her sleep. She yawned and caught Malfoy trying to swallow his own yawn immediately after.

"I really don't understand why you're being so nice to me," Hermione said, watching him hang her cloak up carefully before turning to face her and stretching his back with his arms above his heads. He had a lovely form, and Hermione bit her lip, wondering if he would also be resting.

Malfoy's eyes fell on hers as he relaxed his arms, and he smirked at her attention. "Like what you see, Granger?"

"No," Hermione protested out of habit, but she couldn't make herself look away, even when Malfoy lowered his arms and moved his hands to his hips. Malfoy raised an eyebrow at her continued staring, and she blushed. "Actually, I was wondering if you would be joining me in bed." Both of Malfoy's eyebrows shot up for a split second before he doubled over chortling at her social gaff. "Oh bollocks, Malfoy. You knew what I meant. You didn't sleep last night either. You must be right knackered yourself."

Malfoy held up a finger to indicate he needed more time to recover from his amusement. When he finally straightened back up, his cheeks were still taut from grinning and his eyes still sparkled from the laughter. "Granger, you've no idea how I'm tempted to bottle that memory and send it to your friends with a bow. Can you imagine Weasley's face?"

Hermione groaned and massaged her scalp. "Yes, I'm certain they'll think I'm quite randy for you," she said in the dryest tone she could muster.

Malfoy chortled again, but he walked over to what Hermione had come to think of his side of the bed, removed his wand from his pocket, and set it aside before climbing under the sheets as well. He leaned on his elbow and faced her. "You do fancy me though, don't you?" he asked her with a knowing look.

Hermione ripped out the pillow from behind her and slammed it at Malfoy's face, who blocked it at the last moment by dropping his head back to let his forearm take the blow.

"Hitting on me now, are we?" he teased in between laughter as the pillow flopped off his arm.

"Wanker," Hermione retorted and grabbed the pillow back. She flopped down on her side with her back to Malfoy and pulled the covers up to her chin. Behind her, she heard Malfoy say an incantation softly, and the bedroom lights dimmed except for his starry canopy. Vaguely, she realized they would both likely miss advanced herbology because of this, but she decided Herbology could go hang itself. She would collapse if she didn't rest first.

"Granger, your hair is huge," Malfoy said. "How do you sleep like that?"

Hermione scowled. "Would you shut it and let me sleep?"

"Can't," Malfoy practically sang. "I don't know that your hair won't strangle us both in our sleep."

"If it bothers you so much, then do something about it," Hermione fussed, vaguely recalling that he had spelled her hair up before massaging her back last night.

"Alright then, I will. Sit up," Malfoy instructed.

Hermione complied, though she was fit to snap at him if he teased her again or gave her a hard time about her impossible hair. She fully expected Malfoy to simply magic it up again, so when she felt him kneel close behind her on the bed, she nearly jumped out of her skin. "What are you doing?"

"Relax, Granger. I'm fixing your hair," Malfoy said dryly.

Hermione heard him say an incantation quietly, and she felt her hair untangle all at once. A moment later, Malfoy's long, slender fingers were in her scalp, gently separating her hair and working it back with more care than even she had given it in years. A few minutes later, she had a long braid going down her back. Hermione examined it with a frown. "Why do you know so much about hair?"

She heard Malfoy shrug behind her. "Mother taught me. She wanted me to have every edge I could with Aunt Bella." He shuddered. "I once wondered why Mother, who puts family first, never brought me to see her sister in Azkaban."

His tone made it clear that he wondered no longer.

Hermione pursed her lips, recalling that, at least as far as she knew, Narcissa Malfoy also no longer spoke with her other sister, Andromeda Tonks, after Andromeda had married a muggle-born. Her head spun though, and she desperately needed a lie-down.

"I need sleep, Malfoy," Hermione said as her eyes closed while she sat.

Malfoy chuckled. "Did you forget how to lie down? Need a guide to find your pillow?" he asked.

"Oh shut it," Hermione mumbled. She wobbled while sitting and felt strong arms reach out and support her against a warm, solid chest.

"Easy, Granger," Malfoy said close to her ear. He lowered her gently down, then separated himself from her only to resettle close enough that she felt his warmth. "Get your rest," he said. "We'll talk more when you're more alert."

"Git," Hermione half-yawned, feeling compelled to say something to restore her sense of normalcy.

Malfoy snorted at her, and Hermione smiled. A moment later, she fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record, this chapter was incredibly difficult for me to write. I ended up putting in about 4k words into a Malfoy perspective of it and still rewriting Hermione's perspective of it no less than 3 times before it felt right. Yikes!
> 
> I also ended up doing more research on British terms for things because my American word-choices didn't feel quite right. Not sure if I overdid it or not though. Would love feedback on that.
> 
> Also, a quick PSA on COVID-19: Please be safe and sensible. Make sure you maintain 2+ weeks of supplies in the event you need to isolate at home for any reason. If you're under 60 and relatively healthy, you'll probably endure it no worse than you would the flu, but the elderly and sick are at much greater risk of death from COVID-19, so please take it seriously to protect them. 
> 
> As always, I do post updates on chapter progress and major life disruptions on my fanfiction.net author page. Messaging me on there is the best way to reach me if you want a response.


	26. Narcissa

**Chapter 26 - Narcissa**

Hermione woke to the sensation of a finger pressed gently into her shoulder and the warmth of a body practically pressed up against her back. She wrinkled her nose, knowing that Malfoy was the only possible culprit. "What are you doing, Malfoy?" she asked him in a half-yawn. However long she had slept, it hadn't been long enough. She still felt like her head was full of mud, murky and slow to move.

"Thinking," he said. The finger trailed down the outside of her arm until it met her hip, and he paused. Hermione's heart skipped, wondering what else he intended to do with that finger. Her dreams had been… inspiring in some ways.

"About?" Hermione prompted when he neither continued speaking nor moved his finger from her arm. She twisted her head back to look at him and found his face only inches from her own. He raised an eyebrow at her, and she smirked and lifted one of her own. He had flirted with her earlier, hadn't he? Of course, there was some reason this was a bad idea, but Hermione couldn't quite recall why. Perhaps it no longer mattered.

"How you fancy me," he stated, studying her carefully.

Hermione's eyes popped open, and she felt her whole face burn with a blush. She had to deny this, but it was too late. The self-satisfied smirk on Malfoy's face confirmed that he hadn't missed a bit of her reaction, and she was entirely too knackered to brainstorm her way out. She glared at him for taking advantage of her drowsy state and turned back on her side away from him, embarrassed. "Oh, shut it, Malfoy."

She heard him snort behind her, and then he flopped fully against her and wrapped his arm around her waist, sending her heart into a rapid, thundering beat. "It's not a bad thing, Granger," he said softly, his warm breath tickling her ear. "After all, I can touch you."

A rush of heat spread throughout Hermione, reaching to her toes and coiling between her legs. She felt near dizzy with the sensation, and her thoughts felt fuzzy in her head. Instinct drew her head back, closer to Malfoy's mouth, and she pressed her arse into him, wanting to feel more of him.

A surprised chuckle escaped Malfoy, and he splayed his hand against her abdomen. "Do you want me to touch you, Granger?"

Hermione froze. Something about his request had helped clear the fog in her head, and she frowned, thinking. Behind her, Malfoy stiffened.

"Merlin's beard, I can practically hear you overthinking." He sighed and removed himself from her.

Hermione flipped over immediately, partially to chase his warmth, but also to see his reaction. She was so used to Ron and Harry being angry at her over every little thing that she expected Malfoy to be upset too, but she found him simply staring at his starry canopy with a contemplative expression, as if he was trying to solve a particularly complicated expression in his head.

Hermione bit her lip, considering what to say. A half dozen responses clashed in her head, each one seeming worse than the one prior. After a minute, she realized he was studying her again instead of the canopy. "I'm sorry," she said, without knowing quite what she was apologizing for. Perhaps for struggling to find her words.

Malfoy stared at her with incredulity. "What for?" he said after a moment. "For not wanting a former bully and Death Eater to get randy with you?"

Hermione's eyes went wide. "No, not that," she said. She blushed as she realized she had forgotten about all of that in the moment. Malfoy had simply become a boy she liked who she could not quite escape while cursed. When she saw the skepticism on his face, she rolled her eyes. "I'm not going to hold your past against you, Malfoy. It's your actions today that decide who you are."

Malfoy narrowed his eyes at her and leaned up towards her slightly, as if searching for the trick to a stage magic performance.

Hermione almost groaned. "I'm serious, Malfoy. I actually quite forgot our history together just now. If I weren't under this curse, I wouldn't..." Hermione trailed off before she could finish the thought out loud.

Malfoy frowned and propped himself up on his elbow to face her, mirroring her own position. "If you weren't under this curse, you wouldn't..?" he prompted.

If she weren't under the curse, she wouldn't have hesitated to let him touch her. She might well have touched him first. Her eyes fell to his lips, and she wondered what they would feel like against her own. She wet her bottom lip, and he shifted slightly closer.

"Hermione Granger," Malfoy said, sending goosebumps down her flesh with each syllable of her given name. He leaned close to her and paused, looking her in the eyes. "Do you want me to kiss you?"

Hermione inhaled sharply, and she returned her focus to Malfoy's eyes. "Would you kiss me if I said yes?" she hedged, trying to process this. Did she want to snog Malfoy? Yes, no, maybe… Certainly yes on a physical level, but she wanted more than that, she wanted…

Malfoy closed the gap between them, stopping only a hair shy of her lips. "Yes," he said, brushing her lips with his own in the process.

Every thought fled Hermione's mind. She gasped gently, and their lips brushed again. "Are you kissing me, Malfoy?" Hermione asked him.

Malfoy tilted his head to the side slightly, causing yet another whisper of a kiss. "My name is Draco," he said softly, pronouncing his name in such a way that his lips caressed hers gently in the process.

Hermione's lips tingled with the anticipation of more, and it took every fiber of her being not to leap in and snog him with everything she had. "What does it matter?" she asked him.

Malfoy smirked, his lips tightening away from hers in the process before he sat up and leaned against his headboard with his arms folded behind his head. "Doesn't seem quite right to kiss someone who only calls me by my family name," he said, raising an eyebrow at her and dipping his head slightly at her.

Shock fell over Hermione like ice water, and she trembled as she stared up at Malfoy with wide, apprehensive eyes. She flushed scarlet with shame and embarrassment as she realized Malfoy may well have been mocking her interest in him, and how could she deny it now? Unbidden tears came to her eyes. She twisted away from him, but not before she saw his gleam of recognition.

Silence fell for a minute as Hermione struggled to calm herself. She didn't dare look at Malfoy to see what he was thinking. She could hear his quiet breath, even and calm, as she worked to slow her own. She shouldn't care this much. What did it matter if Malfoy wanted to kiss her or not? And to call him by his first name? It wasn't that she couldn't, but she felt more vulnerable just imagining it. She wasn't ready to call him Draco.

After a moment, she heard him shift in the bed and approach her. He crouched behind her, placing his knees to either side of her, and his hands settled lightly on either side of her waist, causing her to flinch with surprise.

"What are you doing?" Hermione asked him without turning around.

"I'm trying to help you relax," Malfoy said, and his thumbs began to rub small, firm circles in her lower back.

Hermione inhaled sharply, but she did not object as his hands slowly worked their way up her back. Her thoughts went back to the massage he had given her the night before and how different her attitude towards him had been then. It scared her, how much had changed between them in such a short span of time, and yet...

On the whole, Malfoy really had been very kind to her since the curse.

Malfoy's fingers drew away more tension with each rub, and Hermione found herself leaning into his touch. "Were you mocking me?" she asked him after a moment.

"Hrm?" he responded.

Hermione breathed in fresh courage. She could do this. "Were you mocking me for thinking about kissing you?" Hermione asked.

Malfoy's hands paused, then his arms slid around her waist, his chest pressed fully into her back, and his head leaned over her left shoulder. Hermione barely breathed as she felt his breath ghost against her cheek and ear. She stared straight forward, torn between hope and fear of what Malfoy intended. She felt so warm enveloped against him, and yet the chill of the room reminded her of the sharp contrast between fantasy and reality. She didn't know what to trust.

"I want to thank you for your devotion to me, Hermione," Malfoy said, his breath tumbling the wisps of her hair that had escaped the braid.

Goosebumps formed again at his use of her name, but they were nothing compared to what she felt as his lips pressed into her cheeks and lingered before drawing away. All rational thought blew away, and though his head was pressed too close for her to actually face him, she did angle her head back to finally look at him.

Malfoy took in her eyes, likely red-rimmed and certainly watery, and kissed her cheek right on the wetness. Hermione gasped as she felt his tongue slip out against her skin and taste her tears before pulling away. "I forget how broken you are. Until a few days ago, you seemed like a fortress of strength."

Hermione blushed deeply and wondered if this meant he would kiss her on the lips. He certainly seemed keen on it. Then again, he had also seemed keen just a few minutes ago before backing away. Hermione closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and opened them again. "I don't want to call you Draco," she admitted.

"A disappointment, to be sure," he said. He paused, leaned his head against hers slightly, and pursed his lips. "What does the name Malfoy mean to you?" he asked, propping his chin on her shoulder and leaning slightly away so that they had eye contact again.

Hermione furrowed her brow. "You," she said, perplexed. "It just means you," she looked down, trying to sort out what all he was really asking. There were other Malfoys, of course. "I mean, I know your parents also are Malfoys, but I don't think of them as Malfoy… The Order always referred to them by their first names, and though I suppose it's a bit presumptuous to think of them in such familiar terms, that is how they are in my head. They're Lucius and Narcissa, but _you_ are Malfoy."

Malfoy's brow lifted at that, and the creases eased out of his eyes somewhat. "Well, that leaves just one problem then," he said after a moment.

"What's that?" Hermione asked.

"I can't snog you properly from this angle."

Hermione blushed scarlet. Even Victor Krum had never approached her with such confidence. Malfoy's eyes implored her, and she realized he was waiting on her to signal that she was okay with this. "That… that is a problem," Hermione stuttered through her shock. "What do you suggest?" she added, trying to smile coyly, though his reaction indicated that he found it more endearing than enticing.

"I suggest that…"

_Knock. Knock. Knock._

Hermione's eyes went to the door. She wasn't ready to handle Professor McGonagall or Professor Slughorn just then, and she would much rather be snogged.

"Ignore it," Malfoy said to Hermione. He pressed his lips to the curve of Hermione's neck. Hermione's eyes fluttered close only to fly back open when the knocking came again.

"Draco, it's me. Open the door," said a woman.

Malfoy's head shot up, and his whole body went rigid, though his heart raced against Hermione's back. "Mother," he said. It was almost a curse. He sighed and extracted himself from Hermione. "Sorry, Granger. Turns out I do need to get the door."

Hermione blinked at the sudden shift back to her family name. "Of course," was all she said though. It wasn't like she could expect Malfoy to choose her over his mother. She wondered if she should leave, but he hadn't asked her to go. Of course, he hadn't asked her to stay either.

Malfoy went to the door, put his hand on the knob, and paused. He looked behind him at Hermione, and his eyes swept the room. Her robe and shoes near the door, both their wands on the bedside table, and Hermione still in the middle of his bed. His face took on a resigned expression, and he opened the door.

"Mother, this is a pleasant surprise. Come on in," Malfoy said. He embraced his mother and kissed her cheeks before stepping aside and holding the door for her as she came inside. Malfoy closed the door behind his mother. "What brings you to Hogwarts?"

Narcissa took her coat off, motioned to hang it at the coat rack, and paused to finger the fabric of Hermione's school robes. Malfoy cleared his throat and stood up straighter. Narcissa raised an eyebrow at her son and waited.

Draco swallowed hard and several moments of silence followed before he spoke. "Granger, you may use your patronus to speak to my mother."

Narcissa's brow lifted high in her forehead, but she was silent as Hermione cast her patronus and had it speak for her. "Hello," she said nervously. Her silver otter patronus echoed her greeting a moment later.

"So she can communicate after a fashion with your permission," Narcissa said, kneeling down to study the patronus. "Her skill in magic is impressive as well. You never did manage more than a silver wisp, did you?" she said, turning back to face her son.

"Not many happy memories to work with, I'm afraid, Mother," Malfoy replied. He crossed his arms and leaned against his bedpost, watching the two women and the patronus interact.

Narcissa sighed heavily. "I suppose not," she straightened back up and faced her son. "Do you trust her?"

Hermione felt her heart begin to pound as she faced Malfoy to see what he would answer. He pursed his lips, clearly thinking, then walked to the night stand where their wands had been abandoned before their nap. "This is Granger's wand, Mother," he said, holding it in his hand and pushing some of his magic into it. Golden sparks came out, and Narcissa's eyes widened. "This is my wand. Though I know you cannot see Granger to confirm it for yourself, she can do the same to mine. I don't know what it means, but my wand trusts her, so I expect that I should too."

Narcissa's mouth fell open slightly with wonder, and then her eyes hardened a moment before a clever gleam shone on them. "Draco, hand me your wand."

Malfoy handed it over dutifully, though his expression betrayed hesitant confusion.

Narcissa took his wand in hand, and a moment later, golden sparks flew out the tip. She pulled out her own wand and handed it to him wordlessly, keeping her hand on his wand.

Malfoy frowned, but tried his mother's wand. Again, golden sparks flew out the tip. Narcissa's features relaxed notably. She exchanged wands with her son so that they had their own wands again, and then frowned at Hermione's patronus like the otter was a particularly difficult rat she needed to exterminate.

"Malfoy?" Hermione said, worry and fear in her tone. Whatever the wand reaction meant, Narcissa clearly considered it a threat. Could Narcissa hurt her through her patronus? Feeling sick to her gut, Hermione dismissed her patronus.

"What happened?" Narcissa asked.

Malfoy studied Hermione, rubbing his chin, then looked back to his mother. "Tell me what the sparks mean," he challenged.

Narcissa stared at him evenly and silently. Malfoy met her stare head-on, but after a few seconds, he sighed.

"Mother, if this means that Granger and I are somehow fated to be linked together, I deserve to know."

Narcissa's eyes went wide and she scoffed. "Fated? Like some sort of twisted fairy tale? I would have thought such nonsense beyond you, Draco, though that explains your attitude just now."

Malfoy frowned at his mother's teasing. Hermione, however, blushed to think that Malfoy had considered such a possibility from the wands. There was something flattering in the notion that he had even considered they were meant to be together, and yet… Her heart sank in her chest. What if that was the only reason he had been affectionate towards her? He had never declared any interest in her, had he? Hermione bit her lip as she went over their interactions. Certainly, Malfoy had been physically affectionate, but his words never had betrayed any desire from him, and she had been bloody ready to snog him in his bed. Tears pooled in Hermione's eyes. It wasn't that she was particularly against casual snogging, but she cared far too much for Malfoy to feel good about something casual after the fact.

Narcissa took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "Very well. I'll explain. Wands do not easily betray their masters. However, when there is no risk of betrayal, wands have no reason to resist use."

Malfoy pondered this. "So I can trust her?" he asked his mother, then glanced at Hermione. Upon seeing her grieved expression, he scrunched up his nose in confusion, but then turned his attention back to his mother.

Narcissa shook her head. "The wand's response reflects devotion to the person, not the form of devotion. The wand may not recognize if, for example, Miss Granger decided that to kidnap you would be the best way to protect you."

Malfoy's eyes lit up with understanding. "Or if she decided to stun me and drag me across Hogwarts to get my back treated in the Hospital Wing," he said, lifting a brow at Hermione with the hint of a smirk on his lips.

Hermione's heart ached at the gentle teasing, and she shrugged, then pulled herself off his bed before she fully realized what she was doing. She wanted space to think. She knew more of what the wands meant now. Devotion made sense, though she was surprised that Malfoy would have devotion towards her as well. However, he had referred to her as his responsibility earlier that morning. Perhaps that was all it meant. It's not like Malfoy would have developed feelings overnight for someone like her.

"Is that what happened?" Narcissa asked. "I received an owl that you had collapsed in the classroom and were brought to the Hospital Wing by Miss Granger."

"What are you doing?" Malfoy asked Hermione, who had now collected her wand from where he set it down. Narcissa watched him in quiet interest.

"Leaving," Hermione said, looking down to hide her wet eyes. She tried to walk past Malfoy to his door, but he grabbed her wrist when she stepped in front of him. The corner of Hermione's mouth quirked down ruefully as she stopped mid-step rather than fight his grasp. "Let me go, Malfoy. Your mother is here. You don't need me here too."

"You're crying again, aren't you? Why?"

Narcissa's eyes widened at this. "Perhaps she herself thought the reaction of your wands meant something more? Such as fate ordaining that you two were soulmates or meant to marry? She would not be the first young lady to confuse devotion with romantic nonsense."

Hermione scowled as Malfoy dropped her wrist like he had been stung and backed away with horror in his eyes. Clearly, Malfoy had not been interested in her as an equal, which left more questions than answers for how he had treated her earlier. Why flirt? Why seduce her? For there was no other way to label the way he had embraced her and nipped and licked at her neck and face. Did he simply see her as a convenient witch to shag? Was he trying to control her? Angry tears streaked down her face. Hermione huffed, stomped to the coat rack, grabbed her shoes, and slipped them on before reaching for her school robes as well.

"Granger, wait," Malfoy said, putting his hand on her shoulder.

"Don't touch me!" Hermione shrieked in a higher pitch than intended. His hand flew off, and she took a deep breath. "Don't touch me," she repeated more calmly. Sensing it would be better to address the issue than put it off, she turned around and faced him after she finished getting her robes back on. "I did not think the wands meant we were fated, Malfoy," she said plainly. "You should know better than to think I would believe in such rubbish."

"I should know better!?" Malfoy scoffed. "Granger, I barely know you at all. We've spent our entire acquaintance at each other's throats until a few days ago, and you are crying. What should I think? If not that, then what?"

Hermione trembled, feeling even more ridiculous for having gotten so deeply involved emotionally with Malfoy over such a short time-period. Clearly, it was not reciprocated. "I realized…" She bit her lip, thinking of how to explain the hurt and horror she felt at having nearly snogged him when he felt so little for her. The more she thought, the more absurd she felt. "Never mind. It doesn't matter much," she lied. It was past time for her to go. She had never intended to get this close to him again. She forced a smile despite her tears and looked him in the eyes. "I'm glad your back is feeling better. Thank you for letting me keep my wand and magic. See you around, right?" she said. She had every intention of avoiding him again.

Malfoy narrowed his eyes at her. "Granger," he said in a warning tone.

"Draco, let her leave. I didn't raise you to hold women against their will," Narcissa said in a stern voice.

"No, you only had them imprisoned and tortured in our home," Malfoy snapped back. Narcissa flinched as if struck, and her face fell with pain and hurt. Malfoy sighed. "I'm sorry, Mother. I know that was Father's doing, not yours."

Hermione pressed her lips together in a thin line. "Perhaps it's best I go so you may speak with your mother?" she said.

Malfoy studied Hermione's face, glanced at his mother, glanced back to Hermione, and cringed. "Right. See you around, Granger. Actually, sit with me for dinner?" he asked her.

Hermione froze. She did not want to commit to spending more time with Malfoy. "I'll have to check my schedule," she said, and she phased through his door into the darkness of the hallway before he could object again. Her heart pounded in her chest, and only the fear of his coming after her kept her from collapsing into a sobbing mess right there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not a Friday! I know, and I feel awful for how long it's taken me to update. From Mar 6 to May 9... over 2 months. Ugh. I'm so sorry. I guess I shouldn't feel bad that a bloody pandemic threw me off schedule, but I do.
> 
> I also do not know when I will update next. Like many parents, I'm now homeschooling my kids in addition to my prior responsibilities. With the warmer weather, I'm also managing yard and garden, and I've taken on sewing cloth masks to donate to family, friends, and random people in need. I've made several changes to introduce more structure and sanity back into my life, but I am not consistent at this point. I will continue to update my situation on Twitter: NerdMomWriter1
> 
> On COVID-19: The last chapter notes is now a time capsule of our misinformation in March... which is weird looking back on. There was so much we didn't know. It's become clear that many people are not symptomatic at all, and yet this virus has hit people of all ages and health conditions, and I'm seeing way too many reports of people taking over a month to recover, which is an absurd amount of time to risk losing for something that is largely preventable. Please, please, please play it safe if you have the option.


	27. Requirement

**Chapter 27 - Requirement**

Following her departure from the dungeons, Hermione paced her dormitory room with fury. Her thoughts boiled in her head until she felt fit to burst. There was too much to process. She had too many things to consider between the curse, her relationship with Malfoy, how to handle school like this, and what to do next. She had to write them down so she could organize them, but how? Writing on parchment only seemed to work with Malfoy's express permission, and she knew better than to try and mark any other object that could be found by others.

Hermione flung her arms up in frustration and growled at the bracelet on her left wrist when it jingled with the motion. "I won't be outsmarted by you, you know?" She said to the bracelet, holding it up at eye level to glare at it properly. "I'm the smartest witch of the age, or so they say. I've already learned how to send messages to my friends. Surely I can find some way to write again to clear my thoughts."

Hermione sneered at the bracelet a moment longer and then sighed as the absurdity of lecturing a cursed item cleared away the anger and rage. "I've gone mad," she said.

She studied the bracelet for any clue that she might have missed previously, but she found nothing. The corner of her mouth curved down as she considered that she might be stuck with this bracelet the same way she was stuck with the ugly slur written on her arm.

Hermione froze, then pulled up her sleeve and dispelled the charm hiding the scar. "My arm… my body…" Her eyes grew wide, and she choked out a laugh. "_Accio_ quill!" she said, holding out her other arm to grab the quill as it arrived in her hand. She attempted to write on her arm, cursed at the lack of ink, and summoned the ink jar. Nearly dropping it in her haste, she blotted the quill in the ink and wrote her name on her arm.

"It worked," she said in wonder. Her name remained crisp and clear on her skin. She tried again, but this time, to write it on her blouse. As she suspected, the curse intervened, forming a pillow of air between the quill tip and her clothes. She wrote again on her arm, this time, the date. The ink met her skin and stayed.

The possibilities exploded to Hermione, and she went through the spells she knew quickly. Clearly, she would need more physical space than could be provided on her skin at once. After all, she needed to track notes for class in addition to her other challenges…

Hermione blew out a long, frustrated sigh. She had used an extension charm on her purse when they were on the run to make the most of a little bit of space, but the extension charm was meant to be used on the inside of things, not the outside. She snorted as she considered the possibilities that might provide. The best of them would be her belly button. The worst would be more fitting for the book Ginny had borrowed than school notes. She shook her head. The extension charm would not be suitable for her needs.

And yet, she could write on herself.

Hermione had used magic to rearrange ink the night prior with the letters, but the letters had no memory to hold themselves. Hermione chewed her lip. The Marauder's Map was able to hide and reveal words based on a passphrase and movement in the castle. There had to be a way for her to learn from it to hide and reveal words on her body, particularly as she did not want Malfoy to discover the writing, if only so that he could not read what she planned to record on her flesh.

Hermione smiled. It was time to go to the library.

Sometimes, as Hermione explored the tall stacks of books in the Hogwarts library, she wondered if the library itself had healing powers. The anxiety and grief she felt upon leaving Malfoy's room seemed like a distant memory now that all she saw and smelled were books. Here, she could breathe properly again.

She got to work quickly, of course, pulling out book after book on both cartography and calligraphy in the wizarding world, expecting one of them to lead her in the correct direction. She levitated them over to her usual table, sat down, and got to work scanning the Tables of Contents. Two new piles of books soon formed for those that required further reading and those that were blatantly useless. A moment's hesitation passed before she began using her arm to write notes on what she had found and her various ideas. She needed her mind clear to read, and so she threw her full focus into absorbing the information in between jotting down notes on her arms and eventually legs.

She didn't even hear the footsteps approach.

"Granger!?" Malfoy blurted, breaking Hermione's concentration like a bludger in a China cabinet.

Hermione jumped and fell out of her chair when she realized both Malfoy and his mother were standing at her table. Her thoughts short-circuited. She was not ready to face them so soon. Malfoy's eyes were scanning her arms and legs, which, she now realized, were fully covered in ink like some sort of bizarre tattoo. His mother, however, was scanning the book piles and had picked one up to flip through.

"Calligraphy? Cartography?" Narcissa questioned.

"You're covered in ink." Malfoy stared a moment longer in disbelief, then shook his head as if to clear it. "Granger, what are you doing?" When Hermione didn't immediately respond or move, he rolled his eyes, walked over to her, and tugged her back into her seat. He did not let go of her arm, however. Instead, he pulled it closer to his eyes to read what she had written. "Color coding and pass phrases might work like computer." Malfoy wrinkled his nose. "Computer. What's a computer?"

"It's a muggle invention," Narcissa answered him, surprising both Malfoy and Hermione. She put the book down that she had been looking at. "A bit like a telly that you can write on and look things up with." At Malfoy's look, she shrugged. "I did some research on the muggle world during the war."

Malfoy sneered. "Why?" he asked, twisting the word in his mouth. He let go of Hermione's arm and shifted his focus entirely to his mother.

Narcissa stared him down with a dead look in her eyes. "In case the Dark Lord won. Did you really think I intended to let him destroy you like he did your father?"

Malfoy's jaw dropped, and he gave his mother a shrewd, sideways glance like he'd never quite seen her properly before. Silence fell between them, though their expressions changed fractionally over time, as if they came to new understandings.

Hermione looked between them, and her mind exploded with all the implications of what this could mean. Had Narcissa planned an escape to the Muggle world with her son? What if Malfoy had resisted? Would Narcissa have obliviated him and forced him along? Stunned him and removed his wand? Found some other way to contain and manage him? Had she planned to abandon Lucius? Narcissa had referred to Lucius's destruction, but did that mean she wished to be separated from Lucius? And what did this say about Narcissa's views of muggles and muggleborns? What of her sister, Andromeda Tonks, who had been cast off for marrying one?

Malfoy clenched his fists as his expression filled with barely suppressed fury. He forced his eyes shut a moment, then jerked his focus back down to Hermione. "Mother wishes to speak with you. Alone," he stated.

Hermione frowned. Many emotions and thoughts fluttered across her mind, but first and foremost, the impossibility of it. "She can't see or hear me. How would she..?"

Malfoy scanned the library. Hermione's eyes followed his and noted how his gaze paused on each person, taking especially long on the few that watched them and narrowing his eyes until the others averted their gaze. "We need to go somewhere more private to continue this discussion. Follow me."

Hermione scoffed at his presumptuous attitude. "In case you hadn't noticed, I am in the middle of important research."

Malfoy scowled at her. "How important can it be if it involves muggle inventions?"

Hermione arched her brow into her forehead. "Important enough," she said, then shifted her focus to her work, not that she could actually remember where she was in it with Malfoy standing right beside her and his mother still staring at her. "Can you please go? You're distracting me."

Malfoy leaned forward and planted his hand onto the table right in front of Hermione, invading her space and blocking her from easily reaching the books. "You need to speak with her." When she backed up, he winced and followed briefly to whisper, "She wants to free you."

Hermione's eyes blew wide open as she jerked to stare at Narcissa, who stood calmly watching the ordeal as if nothing interesting had happened. "But why?" Hermione gasped.

Malfoy straightened back up and put his hands in his pockets. "I told you. We need to go somewhere more private for this discussion. Will you come now?"

Hermione jerked to standing, then stared at the pile of books on the table and bit her bottom lip. She had gotten quite the start on her studies, and yet…

Malfoy groaned. "What now, Granger?"

"I wasn't being obstinate when I said this was important, Malfoy," Hermione said as she puzzled over how to maintain her spot. If she could write, she would simply jot down each book she had looked at to pull back out later… or just check them all out, but she couldn't even interact with Madam Pince, let alone check books out.

"Just take them," Malfoy said.

"I can't! Not without checking them out!" Hermione reminded him.

Malfoy stared at her a moment with a dubious expression, rolled his eyes, and pulled out his wand. "_Wingardium Leviosa,_" he said in an almost bored tone, and the entire table lifted up off the ground with the books still on them.

"What are you doing?" Hermione hissed as she backed away from the table to avoid getting bumped by it.

"Checking out your books," Malfoy said in a tone that suggested she should have already guessed as much. He smirked as her jaw dropped slightly, and then levitated the table over to where Madam Pince stood by the checkout counter. Madam Pince's eyes had a twitch in them that suggested she would love to give Malfoy a piece of her mind, but she refrained as Malfoy strolled over with his mother and Hermione in tow. "Madam Pince, I'm checking these books out. I want them delivered to my room this evening, and do take care not to mix the piles."

"She's not your servant, Malfoy!" Hermione snapped. "And even so, shouldn't they be delivered to my room instead?"

Malfoy ignored Hermione, keeping his eyes on Madam Pince directly. When Madam Pince continued to balk at him, Malfoy leaned forward on the desk. "I know it's an unusual request, but I wouldn't trust anyone else to do it. You see, I've picked up a rather unexpected interest in book-making lately. I've been thinking of adding a personal account of the war to the family library. You've seen my family library, haven't you?"

Hermione watched Madam Pince's jaw slowly close and a gleam enter the older woman's eyes. "No, I don't believe I've had the pleasure yet."

Malfoy's face immediately sunk into one of deep concern, and he turned to his mother. "Did you hear that? Madam Pince, esteemed librarian of Hogwarts, hasn't seen our private collection?"

Narcissa turned to Madam Pince. "I would be happy to arrange a tour to correct this oversight. Perhaps this Sunday?"

Hermione stood at Malfoy's side as Madam Pince sputtered and Narcissa arranged for Madam Pince's visit. Malfoy had his eyes on Madam Pince and was nodding along in all the right places, and Hermione had the odd sensation that she had been forgotten, though it only barely registered with all the other thoughts exploding in her head. Narcissa intended to free her from the curse? It made no sense. Of course, Narcissa hadn't seemed particularly pleased by the curse, but surely she knew that freeing Hermione would mean putting her family in danger, unless…

Hermione gasped as she recalled that Malfoy had asked her to submit for obliviation in the event they freed her from the curse so that she could not later incriminate his family. She had never planned to go through with it, but her reasons why had shifted. Before she had mostly been concerned about keeping her mind intact, but now, the fear that struck her was at forgetting what she had learned of Malfoy.

Her eyes went to him. For years, he had been too annoying for her to really look at him properly, but now… He was a tall, handsome young man with eyes that held so many things she had never noticed before. He was shrewd and caustic, to be sure, but his consideration towards her when he owed her nothing and hardly tolerated her was breathtaking after so many years of being cast aside by Harry and Ron at every upset. Malfoy's indignation of their treatment of her had blindsided her heart. His subsequent seduction of her had been one of the most sensual experiences of her life, and they hadn't even kissed properly.

Of course, that had been minutes before he had jerked away from her at the idea that she might want to marry him, as if the very idea of being with her in that way was repulsive. Hermione cast her eyes to her feet and bit the inside of her cheek against a fresh wave of mortification. She supposed Malfoy might react that way to the idea of marriage to anyone, but she didn't think that was the case. Most wizards and witches at Hogwarts expected to marry shortly after graduating from Hogwarts. Hermione had been teased for wanting to hold off on settling down herself.

An elbow gently bumped into her arm, and she looked up to see Malfoy looking down at her with a raised eyebrow in question. "What is it?" he asked.

Hermione simply shook her head. She didn't know what to say or where to start. Even if she felt comfortable confronting Malfoy on what he wanted from her, she still wouldn't do it with his mother and Madam Pince standing just a few feet away. Madam Pince had trapped Narcissa into receiving her gushing praise of the books loaned to the Hogwarts library from the Malfoy collection.

An arm slipped behind Hermione's back, and she found herself staring at Malfoy's hand on her shoulder as he tugged her gently against him. "Mother, Granger and I will go ahead. I think the Room of Requirement should do well. Meet us there?"

Whatever Narcissa said in response, Hermione didn't hear it over the shock of having Malfoy escort her out of the library with his warm and sturdy arm wrapped firmly against her back. Her senses returned as they left the library, and she remembered that she didn't know what he wanted with her. Hermione turned on him, escaping his arm by twisting out from it. "What are you doing?" she asked him.

Malfoy held both hands up in front of him, palm out. "Relax, Granger. I just thought we should talk first."

Hermione scowled. "What's there to talk about?" she asked in a clipped tone that sounded like an overreaction even to her own ears. She turned from him and took a deep breath. "Sorry, I could really use some space," she amended.

"Should we wait for a better time to try and free you?" Malfoy replied, sarcasm dripping from his tone.

Hermione chuckled and shook her head. "Of course not, but I still don't understand… I thought only your father could free me."

Malfoy shoved his hands in the pockets of his robe and glanced around the hall. When his eyes fell on a particularly curious portrait, he sighed. "I'll explain in the Room of Requirement. Let's go."

They fell into step together and made quick work of the stairs from the 3rd floor to the 7th floor, though they were both breathing a bit more heavily by the time they reached the Room of Requirement.

"Which of us should go in first?" Hermione asked Malfoy, thinking of the Room of Requirement's peculiar ability to do its best to meet the needs of the first person who entered.

"I'll go. I expect I know what Mother will need," Malfoy said, and he calmly walked back and forth in front of where the room was located three times. The door appeared, and Hermione was surprised to note it looked incredibly familiar, though she couldn't quite place it. Malfoy sighed in relief on seeing it. "Well, let's go in," he said, and he opened the door into a perfect copy of the office Severus Snape had maintained when he still taught potions. Even the fireplace was there, and Hermione wondered if it might be connected to the floo network despite its current location in the Room of Requirement.

Malfoy wasted no time in sliding into Snape's chair behind the desk and leaning back with his arms folded behind his head. "Well, Granger, you wanted to know how my mother intended to free you without my father. Care to take a guess?"

"Polyjuice," Hermione said, staring at the stacks of potion ingredients on the shelves lining the room. She walked up to where the boomslang skin was stored and shivered with reminiscence. "She intends to become your father." Hermione turned her head to Malfoy. "Will it work?"

Malfoy pulled away from the chair to lean forward on the desk, his hands folded below his jaw. "You already considered Polyjuice, didn't you?"

Hermione blushed, and her hands shook as she pulled them away from the shelves. "Does it matter? You intend to free me anyway."

Malfoy shrugged. "Mother intends to free you," he said, meeting her eyes.

Hermione felt his words like a punch to the gut. "You mean that you don't," she said, spelling out what he hadn't quite said.

Malfoy pinched his brow together a moment before leaving the desk to stand close beside Hermione at the shelves. "You must know she plans to _obliviate_ you. You won't remember the last few days. You'll go back to your loneliness and only your cruel friends to comfort you. You won't have me. Do you really want that?"

The hairs on Hermione's arms stood on end. "I want to be free," she said with certainty, but she couldn't deny Malfoy's point. She didn't want to forget Malfoy either, though the memory would be painful while her interest was not reciprocated. It didn't matter though. He had raised the bar for her relationships, and she expected she would be happier for it regardless of his role in her future.

Malfoy scowled at her. "And what of me? I don't want to be alone again," he said in a bluntness that struck her as overly candid coming from Malfoy, though it shed light on one thing that had puzzled her.

"That's why you tried to kiss me, isn't it?" Hermione said as the pieces came together in her mind. "You're trying to make sure I don't leave you. You're afraid," she said. Her face twisted in horror. "You're so terrified of loneliness you would rather make love to someone you're not interested in than risk losing their attention."

Malfoy's expression turned stony, and his posture went rigid as they stared at each other. "What of it?" he eventually spat out. "You were fine with it!"

"I was not! You misled me!" Hermione protested. At his dubious expression, she scoffed. "You were seducing me. Normally, when boys seduce girls, it's because they fancy them." Hermione took a deep breath as grief burned and blurred her vision. "I thought you wanted to kiss me for me," she whispered, and the dam broke. Hot, wet tears rolled down her face, but she didn't look away from him this time. She wanted him to see that he had hurt her.

Surprise flashed across his eyes for a moment before his lips parted and he furrowed his brow in confusion before anger painted his features. "We weren't even on speaking terms three days ago, Granger! What did you expect!?" He glared down at her. "Have you read so many books that you've lost sight of reality? Did you think I was going to fall passionately in love with you overnight?"

Hermione didn't know what to say to that. She had thought herself firmly in the right of things, but he was right too. She had gotten ahead of herself. She could feel a sob trying to break free of her chest, and she hugged herself and tried to calm her breathing before she embarrassed herself further.

He ran a hand through his hair, disturbing his blond fringe, and sighed heavily. "Granger," he said in a calmer voice, and tilted his head to the side slightly as his gaze relaxed. "I don't find you unattractive."

"But you don't find me attractive either?" Hermione spat before she could think better of the words. She blushed a brilliant red and avoided his eyes, knowing her humiliation would be complete now that she had asked Malfoy to spell out exactly how plain and homely she was. She startled when she felt his hand tuck some loose hairs behind her ear and slide behind her head to the braid he had done for her.

"Your hair," he said, and he gently pulled the braid over her shoulder to better look at it. "Your hair is madness itself. It frightens me." He raised his eyes to her own. "Just like you."

The intensity in his gaze grew, and Hermione's heart froze in her chest as a flicker of hope came to life. Though his words were not flattering, his tone better matched a confession than a rejection.

"Your hair I could tie down to manage. You're more difficult," he said in a quiet voice. He stepped in closer to Hermione, carefully swept her braid behind her back again, and left his hand behind her shoulder, encouraging her to stay close to him. "Don't you get it, Granger? Now that I have you to myself, I don't want to let you go."

Hermione just stared at him. His words sounded so much like a confession, and yet… "You want me to stay cursed?" She asked, horrified. "Just so you can keep me to yourself?"

"I am a Slytherin, Granger," he reminded her and stepped in closer, putting his other arm behind her as well and tugging her gently into his chest. "I'm greedy, and I don't like to share."

Hermione shoved backwards against his chest to free herself as she tried to reconcile the Malfoy who had been so considerate and affectionate towards her earlier with this Malfoy in front of her who would rather ruin her future than risk losing her. Nausea swept over her, and suddenly there wasn't enough air in the room. She stumbled backwards into a shelf and heard various glass jars shift and resettle at the impact.

Malfoy took a half-step forward and reached out to help her, his eyes full of concern, then stopped himself and returned his face to neutral.

Hermione blinked. Malfoy was a Slytherin. He was an excellent Slytherin, and he had been raised to wield his words as well as his wand both at home and Hogwarts his entire life. Hermione gasped as the colors returned to the room. The warmth of the fire blazed at her. She caught a whiff of the walnut wood of the shelves, and suddenly she could breathe again. He wanted something, and he was putting on this act to get it. The question was what did he want?

Her thoughts went over their conversations since the library. He had claimed he wanted to keep her captive just now, but in both the library and on the way, he had been encouraging her to seek her freedom through his mother. She bit her lip, looked up at him, and found his eyes on her.

"Stop thinking, Granger," Malfoy ordered with narrowed eyes.

Hermione smirked. "Afraid, Malfoy?" She watched him shift backwards. Fear lined his eyes, and she stepped forward just to see him back up in response. Feeling rather like a lioness that has cornered a snake, she prowled forward until he backed into the desk. She placed her hands on either side of him on the desk, and leaned into him as he leaned back, his terror now blatant.

"Granger? What are you doing?" he hissed.

Hermione smiled. She hadn't really thought this out beyond watching him squirm, but she was having fun now. She stepped back from him and crossed her arms in front of her. "Testing a theory," she said and smirked at him.

"A theory?" Malfoy asked her. He stood up and dusted off his robes, as if he hadn't just been cowering on Snape's desk.

"A theory," Hermione confirmed. She turned her back to Malfoy and pretended to study the shelves as she contemplated what to say. "I appreciate your assistance in confirming it," she said, suspecting her attitude would rile him up.

Malfoy's movement was hesitant, but he slinked up behind her and stood close enough that she would only have to lean back a little to bump against him. "Think you learned something, Granger?" he asked her, his voice a mix of threatening and cocky.

Hermione considered how to respond. She hadn't quite determined what he wanted from her, but she had little doubt that he was not nearly as heartless towards her well-being as he claimed. "If your mother succeeds and obliviates me, will you reach out to me again?"

Malfoy inhaled deeply, and his chest pressed against her back slightly before he blew his breath back out. "You wouldn't want me to."

Hermione turned on him, ready to give him a piece of her mind about assuming what she did or did not want, when he held up a hand for her to wait. Hermione swallowed the rant back down and glared at him to continue.

Malfoy rolled his eyes at her expression and stepped back slightly to create space between them. "Granger, you didn't want anyone to know you. You've spent the better part of the last year avoiding everyone but the she-weasel. Why would I be any different?"

Hermione froze as every carefully constructed argument about how she wouldn't hold the past against Malfoy was forgotten. He was right. The past wouldn't matter if she didn't let anyone in, regardless of their history. She swallowed hard. "I'll write a note. You can show it to me after, and then…"

Malfoy placed his hands on his hips and tilted his head to the side. "You're smarter than that Granger. How would you react to my having a letter claiming you knew you would lose your memory and wanted yourself to know I was your friend?"

The blood drained from Hermione's face. There had to be some way that they could…

A knock came from the door, and Malfoy stepped away to let his mother into the Room of Requirement with them. Narcissa began speaking with Malfoy immediately in a quiet, hushed voice, as she unpacked her purse onto Snape's desk.

Hermione stood, dumbfounded, as she began to face that freedom with obliviation would not only mean that she would forget Malfoy, but that she would also likely never become friends with him again. Her heart ached. She knew she would choose freedom over the not-quite-relationship she had with Malfoy under the curse, but she didn't want to lose him.

She really didn't want to lose him.


	28. Value & Bonus Mini-Chapter

**Chapter 28 - Value**

Time crawled as Hermione watched Narcissa carefully remove a long blond hair from a folded cloth napkin and place it in a vial of prepared polyjuice potion. Vaguely, Hermione wondered how Narcissa could tell her hair apart from that of her husband's, but she expected Narcissa would not make the kind of mistake Hermione had made when she accidentally mistaken cat fur for Millicent Bulstrode's hair back in second year. Narcissa stood, held the potion up, and lifted it to her lips.

"Mother, are you certain?" Malfoy asked her, fear in his every breath from where he stood at her side.

Narcissa held his gaze and drank the potion. Her form changed quickly, and Hermione was surprised to see her clothes morph with her during the transition. When the image of Lucius Malfoy appeared dressed immaculately in robes tailored to his form, Hermione couldn't help it. "How did you manage the clothes?" she asked.

Narcissa looked directly at her and smirked, a very disturbing thing to see on Lucius's face. "A lesson for another time, Miss Granger," she said in Lucius's rich, deep voice. "It's good to see you," she added.

"It worked. You can see and hear her," Malfoy said with awe, looking between his mother and Hermione. "But can you..?"

"Remember yourself, Draco," Narcissa interjected. "I wish to speak with her first. Alone."

Malfoy stiffened, then turned to Hermione. He opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but his eyes shifted to his mother, and he closed his mouth again.

"I'll be alright," Hermione said. Of course, she didn't quite believe it, but she still had to see this through. It was moments like this that reminded her why she had been sorted into Gryffindor.

Malfoy studied her a moment longer before nodding firmly. He narrowed his eyes at Narcissa. "Mother," he said in a warning tone.

Narcissa raised an eyebrow at Malfoy. "I have no desire to harm Miss Granger. You can leave her."

Malfoy clenched his fists and held his ground. "Will you _obliviate _her before I return?" he asked his mother in a tight voice.

Narcissa rolled her eyes and put a hand on her hip, making a rather comical appearance as Lucius. "Draco, you should know by now that your well-being and happiness are my first priority." When Malfoy still hesitated, Narcissa smiled, though her eyes were sad. "I won't do anything to her memory before you return," she promised.

Malfoy sighed, glanced once more at Hermione, and exited the room, leaving Hermione alone with his polyjuiced mother.

Hermione stared at Narcissa while gathering her thoughts. Seeing Lucius with the knowledge that it was Narcissa was quite disconcerting, but the fear of what might come of their tete-a-tete was worse. For her part, Narcissa seemed entirely at peace with the situation. She gracefully sat back down at Professor Snape's desk, conjured a chair across from it, and gestured for Hermione to sit in it.

Hermione moved silently to the chair with her eyes on Narcissa and stumbled on the chair in the process. Righting herself and blushing at her error, Hermione stared up at Narcissa's mildly surprised and concerned expression in Lucius's face. Somehow, Hermione had expected to find censure or mocking amusement. She didn't know what to think now.

"Please, sit, Miss Granger," Narcissa requested in Lucius's deep voice.

Hermione sighed and carefully lowered herself into the chair. She crossed her ankles, dusted off her uniform skirt, and placed her hands in her lap before looking up to meet Narcissa's eyes… or should she call them Lucius's eyes? Honestly, this whole thing was confusing and rather terrifying. She fought the urge to hug herself.

"Tell me. Why do you think I asked to speak with you away from Draco?" Narcissa asked Hermione.

Hermione's lips parted, but then she shook her head slowly. "I don't know," Hermione admitted. "He said you wanted to free me, so I guess you might want to know what I might have learned or planned before you obliviate me and try to break the curse…" Her brow knitted together. "Of course, it would be sensible to put in safe-guards against my betraying your family in the future, though I don't know exactly how you would.." Hermione fell quiet and considered. "An unbreakable vow would likely be the simplest solution, as I could not betray an unbreakable vow even if I had forgotten about it." Hermione chewed her bottom lip in thought.

Narcissa smiled at her slowly. "An unbreakable vow is an excellent option for the circumstance, and yet that's not what I asked."

Hermione blushed lightly. "No, it isn't, and you would need a third person present for the unbreakable vow anyway, so you don't intend to perform one yet." Hermione took in a slow, deep breath and let it out. A thought occurred to her, and she felt the blush spread to her ears. "This is about the letters, isn't it," she stated in a flat voice.

Narcissa leaned an elegant elbow forward and rested her chin on it, or Lucius's chin on it. Hermione wrinkled her nose. There really ought to be some sort of standard on how to refer to a person when they are polyjuiced as someone else. Perhaps Hermione could write to the Wizengamot about the importance of…

"I did hear a rumor," Narcissa began. She raised an eyebrow.

Hermione stared at Narcissa blankly a moment before recalling the topic at hand. The letters. Right. "I supposed Malfoy's already told you his perspective," Hermione said, wondering exactly how much Narcissa knew.

Narcissa straightened back up and placed her hands flat on the table before sweeping them out to the sides. Her eyes stayed on her right hand. "I understand you volunteered to help him."

Hermione felt the blush creep up again at her memories of the night she and Malfoy had worked together on the letters and how much her feelings had evolved in the process. Of course, she hadn't been interested in him at first. How odd that just a few days ago, she had only seen helping him as a means to an end. "A lot happened," Hermione finally said.

Narcissa said nothing.

Hermione took a deep breath, knowing that Narcissa expected her to explain, but how much should she explain? Hermione fiddled with her skirts and looked down, not quite having the courage in the moment to meet the eyes of Malfoy's mother. "I don't know where to start," Hermione finally said.

Narcissa tilted her head to the side, considering Hermione. "When my husband and I visited Draco a few days ago, my son indicated that you two had spoken, but not that you were close."

"Right," Hermione said. She could go from there. "When I had discovered that he was the only one who could see or hear me that morning, I had asked for his help. We weren't friends. I don't even know if we had spoken this school year." Hermione bit her bottom lip and creased her forehead against the regret she felt. "I wasn't… He's… I mean…" Hermione took another deep breath. "I never tried to know him before, and I know it's only been a few days, but…" Hermione felt tears come to her eyes, and she realized she had been dangerously close to confessing her feelings. She blinked slowly a few times as she reorganized her thoughts. "I don't want to be cursed, but…" She frowned. What was the right way to phrase it? "I would miss him," she finally said.

Narcissa's eyes lightened, and just a hint of a smile graced her lips before disappearing. "You've come to value my son?"

Hermione couldn't control the blush that spread across her. "He's…" Memories of her pleasure when Malfoy turned out to be an excellent pretend correspondent, her frustration at his teasing her about sharing a bed, her shock when he didn't shut her out despite his anger at her, and more surfaced. However, the memories then took a darker turn as she recalled the many times he mocked her and showed cruelty, even just a few minutes ago in this room. Of course, she had reason to suspect he had been manipulating her for her own sake each time, but what if he hadn't done it for her? And even if he had, did that really make it okay?

"Has something happened?" Narcissa asked, her voice suddenly firmer and harsher.

Hermione stared at her blankly, confused at the change in tone.

"Allow me to rephrase. Has my son done something to you?" Narcissa asked. "Has he forced himself on you in some way?"

Hermione's eyes shot wide open, and she shook her head before she was able to speak. "No! He rejected me, actually!" Narcissa's jaw fell open slightly, and Hermione clamped a hand over her own mouth for a second before realizing the damage had been done, and she may as well get it all out.

Hermione removed her hand slowly and hugged herself while avoiding eye contact. "He would never force himself on me-not like that." Hermione looked up as a thought occurred to her. "Is that why you wanted to speak to me alone? To learn what he had done to me?" A second thought came to her mind, and Hermione let out a single hysterical-sounding chuckle. "Or perhaps simply if we're intimate at all? You don't need to worry yourself there," Hermione said, and unbidden tears slid down her cheeks. She summoned a tissue and blew her nose. "I can't say he didn't try eventually, but it wasn't because he fancied me or anything. He just knew…" Hermione's voice broke with pain. "He knew I fancied him, and he thought that…" Hermione trembled with hurt. "He thought I wouldn't mind, but I do." She wiped her face, cleared her nose again, and forced a smile as she finally lifted her eyes to Narcissa. "So you see, you have nothing to fear."

The expression Narcissa wore was such a mix of things that Hermione had no idea how to interpret it, especially through Lucius's form. Silence fell for several long moments.

"Are you telling me that my son tried to seduce you?" Narcissa asked, her voice incredulous.

Hermione flinched. Did Narcissa think she was lying? "Only once, and only after he discovered I fancied him. He's not got any friends at school. He's lonely. That's all," Hermione explained.

Narcissa abruptly stood up and began pacing the space behind the desk while massaging her scalp. She paused after about three rounds and swiveled to face Hermione. "And you don't have a problem with this? His seducing you for such a pathetic, selfish reason?"

Hermione's eyes widened as she realized that Narcissa's distress was not that her son had tried to seduce her, but why he had tried to seduce her. Shaking her head briefly to clear it, she sat up straighter. "Of course, I do!" She sagged into the chair with a sigh. "But I also should have known better." A self-deprecating laugh escaped Hermione. "I couldn't even convince my prat of an ex-boyfriend that I was worth it, and that was after years of being close and on the same side in the war." Hermione realized Narcissa was staring at her with an expression that was something between pity and disgust. Hermione winced and looked away. "Sorry. I'm not very good at shutting it," she said in a small voice.

"Miss Granger," Narcissa said firmly, and Hermione snapped to attention. "Never let a man's actions decide your worth," Narcissa commanded.

Hermione's jaw dropped. "Oh… Okay," she said hesitantly. It wasn't that she disagreed with Narcissa on the subject, but rather that her heart refused to trust it.

"I also feel I may need to make something clear. I do not _fear_ the idea of my son's… _involvement_ with you, Miss Granger," Narcissa said in a kinder tone. "You are no one to be ashamed of an association with. I confess I'm rather surprised of your interest, especially considering the history between you two."

Hermione blushed. "He's not what I expected. I knew he could be cruel. I've known that since we were first years together, but I didn't know he could be kind too, and I rather enjoyed making those letters with him, even if they were fake…" Hermione bit her lip, knowing there were a dozen reasons that Malfoy had won her over despite everything else. "He's considerate of my needs, he's fun to be around, not to mention quite handsome," Hermione said with a bit of an embarrassed laugh for admitting it out loud.

Narcissa merely smiled, and so Hermione continued.

"He didn't cut me off when he was angry at me. He even got angry on my behalf when he discovered that Ron and Harry often did just that. His words are harsh and downright awful sometimes, but his actions…" Hermione paused to search for words that would describe what she felt. "He wouldn't be lonely anymore if everyone saw what I could see."

Silence fell heavily in the room as Hermione realized she had nothing else to say. She rubbed her arms and stared at the door, wondering when Malfoy would return.

Narcissa walked around the desk to Hermione's side and knelt down to Hermione's level. "Thank you, Miss Granger, for seeing beyond the past. Tell me, what do you want from the future?"

Hermione blinked. Did Narcissa mean her future with Malfoy? In general? "I want to be freed from the curse, of course," Hermione said. "To graduate, find work… There are offers, but most of them seem to be based on my status as Harry Potter's best friend. I hadn't quite thought beyond that yet. I expected that…" Hermione trailed off. She didn't want to talk about Ron Weasley with Malfoy's mother. She took a deep breath. "I wanted to learn more about the Ministry and the Wizengamot. So little of our education at Hogwarts looks at wizarding government and how reform is brought around, but that's what interests me. There has been so much intolerance, both before and since the war. It's not right."

"Intolerance of muggle-borns such as yourself?" Narcissa asked.

Hermione smiled sadly. "Well, yes, but also of the purebloods who fell in with You-Know-Who. We'll only repeat history if we don't find a way to help us move past the war." Hermione looked at the cursed bracelet on her wrist. She had become so used to it now that she hardly thought of it. "Objects like this should be destroyed, but coming after your husband for putting me in this position won't make things better. More years in Azkaban won't suddenly make him more tolerant, and more attention to his wrongs will harm you and Malfoy. There has to be a better way."

Hermione sighed. "I don't know how much power I have to keep Harry from coming down on your family for what's happened to me, but I will do what I can."

"And yet, convenient as it would be to me and Draco to have Lucius's crimes overlooked, he should answer for what he has done to all of us," Narcissa said in an icy tone. "Miss Granger, may I see the bracelet?"

Hermione felt anticipation ripple through her. "Yes, of course," she said and held out her wrist.

Narcissa, still polyjuiced as Lucius, took Hermione's wrist and examined the bracelet. Carefully, Narcissa reached out and touched the bracelet, then carefully began pulling it down off Hermione's wrist.

Hermione's heart pounded in her chest and the bracelet slipped onto her hand, but then stuck, as if it could not go further. Narcissa frowned, then checked the bracelet again. "There's no clasp to open."

"It slid right on when I got it," Hermione confirmed.

"The curse must not fully recognize me as the master over the curse then. Perhaps if Draco used the polyjuice potion as well, then…"

Hermione blanched. Seeing Narcissa as Lucius was awkward, but seeing Draco as his father? Somehow that was much worse.

Narcissa removed her wand and said, "_Expecto Patronum_." A silver lioness came out and began prowling the room. "Please go collect Draco for us." The lioness bounded off, and Narcissa returned to the professor's chair on the other side of the desk.

"What will you do if this doesn't work?" Hermione asked her, trying to ignore the fact that she had just seen a lion, the symbol of Gryffindor, come out of a Slytherin's wand.

Narcissa lightly shrugged. "I speak to my husband, of course." She looked to Hermione and smirked in a very Malfoy-like fashion. "I'll need to set some measures in place to protect you and Draco, of course, but do you really think my husband will allow a curse to remain that has resulted in his son seducing a muggle-born?"

Hermione gulped. "I think he'll try to kill or obliviate me."

"That's what the safe-measures will be for. I won't allow harm to come to someone my son values."

Hermione bit her bottom lip and looked down.

"You don't think my son values you?" Narcissa asked her gently.

Hermione shook her head. "No, it's not that… well, not entirely. I know he values having someone there, but is that the same as valuing me?" Hermione frowned. "Will he still want to know me when I can see my other friends?"

"Why wouldn't he?" Narcissa asked.

"Because the curse…" Hermione took a deep breath. "WIth the curse, he didn't have to actually trust me. He could trust the curse to keep my silence, but with it broken…" Hermione hugged herself. "He said just a few minutes ago that he wants to keep me in the curse so he can keep me to himself. I don't know that he meant it, but I don't even want to be in a… friendship like that. I'm not a possession!"

Narcissa's eyes hardened. "Draco said that?"

Hermione trembled. "It's possible I misunderstood him," she said, fearing suddenly that she may have unintentionally caused a divide between him and his mother. She had not forgotten the warning Malfoy had given her regarding using his mother against him.

Someone knocked on the door, and Narcissa stood. "Miss Granger, from one witch to another, you have every right to be furious with my son right now. You are not a possession, nor should he ever treat you as one. However, as his mother, I hope that you look past his words to his actions. The Dark Lord's presence in our home changed many things, and though Slytherins are never fond of adopting the blatant honesty that Gryffindors seem to wear as a badge of honor, I fear that Draco had to take it a step further for his own safety. Now, does my son treat you like a possession?"

The knocking came on the door again, more impatient this time.

Hermione swallowed and thought back on how Draco had acted… stopping her when he feared she wasn't thinking clearly, treating her body and belongings with respect even when he was angry and she was unconscious, and insisting she had her wand even though she wouldn't tell him what he wanted to know. Even in the seduction, he had gone slowly, watching her reactions carefully, and backed off initially when she showed hesitation. He had been pushy at times… like when he saw her crying in his room, and when he saw she had ink all over her arms, but they all seemed tied to concern and determination to help. Really, the last time he had tried to order her around had been following potions class before the letters and everything else, and that seemed like a lifetime ago now.

"No, he doesn't treat me like a possession," Hermione admitted, and her heart filled with both warmth and pain at the realization. Judging by his actions alone, Malfoy cared quite a bit for her, and yet… his words could be beyond cruel. What good was the knowledge that he cared if he still hurt her anyway? She was tired of it. Between her experiences with Malfoy and Ron, she was thinking that a nice, quiet future with only cats for companionship might be rather lovely.

The knocking came again, even more demanding, and they could hear Malfoy's muffled voice through the door.

Narcissa walked over to Hermione and knelt down once more to Hermione's eye-level. "Chin-up, Miss Granger. It's not always easy being a witch, but things will get better." Narcissa tucked one of Hermione's loose curls behind Hermione's ear, smiled at the younger woman, and went to let her son into the room.

* * *

_Normally this is where I have my end-of-chapter notes, but I'm including this little bonus mini-chapter on Narcissa's perspective after Hermione left her son's room. I wrote it to help me get in her head, and as it no longer contains meaningful spoilers, I'm sharing it here. :) End-of-chapter notes will follow._

* * *

**Bonus mini-chapter - After Hermione left Malfoy's room**

Narcissa seethed inwardly as she watched her son sacrifice his pride for Miss Granger. Under other circumstances, she would be thrilled and likely organize chance opportunities to bring the two together more in the hopes of a future union. She was well aware of how rare a thing it was for a woman to show devotion to her son rather than his fortune. However, a connection made under the duress of a curse was not normal circumstances.

"She's gone?" Narcissa asked when Draco faced her again after asking Miss Granger to sit with him for dinner. Draco nodded, though his head remained low, and his eyes betrayed distraction. "I don't recall," Narcissa stated to draw his attention. "Is Miss Granger very pretty?" she asked, knowing full well her son would understand the direction of her thoughts.

Draco's guard went up immediately. "Why are you really here, Mother?"

Narcissa raised her brow at his attitude. "Am I not allowed to check on my son after he collapses in class?"

Draco snorted. "I've landed in the Hospital Wing a dozen times, Mother, and this is the first time you visited."

"Yes, well you weren't under investigation for the cursing of the best friend of Harry Potter those other times," Narcissa reminded him.

Sullen as ever, Draco squeezed his eyes shut and massaged the bridge of his nose. "Must you remind me? Granger and I spent the entire night inventing a correspondence to use as evidence of our supposed relationship prior to the curse."

A knot untangled in Narcissa's heart. The news of her son's supposed hidden relationship with the Granger girl had disturbed her when she heard it. Her son was her world, and the idea that he had hidden something that important from her... She smiled inwardly. Her son hadn't been keeping the girl a secret from her. "I'm surprised she chose to help you, given the circumstances."

Draco gave his mother a smug smile. "Granger always had a thing for justice. Once I presented myself as a fellow victim, she rushed to rescue me too."

"I see," Narcissa said, though she felt mildly ill at his explanation. It wasn't that she minded his manipulating a young woman to his benefit, but when the girl was already cursed and helpless before them… it felt just a bit too much like kicking a dog when it was down. She had rather expected Draco had more empathy than that now as well. When he was a child, he had been disturbingly ruthless, but in recent years…

"I thought you would be proud," Draco grumbled, eyeing his mother with no small amount of frustration.

Narcissa cocked her head to the side and studied her son. His eyes were so vulnerable. Had he really so little empathy for the Granger girl? Could he have mislead his own mother in a misguided attempt for her approval? Narcissa narrowed her eyes, and she saw pain and fear reflected in her son's expression. No, his heart was not nearly as cold as he pretended, and yet he feared being open with his own mother. Narcissa sighed, knowing this was a consequence of the Dark Lord's constant presence in their lives the last few years. If only... "I would like to speak with her," she found herself saying. She only had a piece of the puzzle before her, and her son was not likely to divulge more. However, the Granger girl was best friends with Potter, who hardly had any filter between his thoughts and his mouth. "Directly," she added. If Miss Granger was anything like Potter, a few minutes alone with the girl would reveal everything Narcissa needed to know for how to act.

Draco literally took a step back, staring at his mother wide-eyed. "Directly? But why? How?"

"I keep fresh polyjuice potion at the manor. Though the curse does not allow me to see Miss Granger as myself, I expect the polyjuice might allow me to view her as Lucius, if not free her entirely."

Draco stared at her with blatant horror and ashen cheeks, but he said nothing. Interesting. He had complained incessantly about the curse to his father just two days ago. Perhaps he feared her retaliation? And yet, Draco would know better than to not expect his mother to have a plan for that.

"Father will be upset," Draco said after a moment.

Narcissa rolled her eyes. "I can handle your father. What I can't handle is every unassigned auror breathing down our necks when we've only barely just escaped being placed in Azkaban ourselves."

Draco started shaking his head slowly, as if in shock. "Mother, I... " He glanced away, clenched his fists, and took a deep breath before facing her again. "Granger has shown me more kindness and understanding in the last two days than anyone else here has in the last half year. If you obliviate her…"

Ah, so he feared being forgotten by the girl. That hadn't been Narcissa's planned course of action. An Unbreakable Vow would be far more sensible, given that they would need Miss Granger's help to dissuade her friends from pursuing answers now that the Malfoy family had been implicated. However, she wondered if pressing the point would loosen her son's lips. "You could always remake her acquaintance after the curse is removed."

Draco scoffed. "Hardly. She couldn't stand me either two days ago. It wasn't until she learned…" He frowned. "Of course, you know best." His head drooped, and his hands went limp at his sides.

Narcissa shook her head sadly, closed the distance, and wrapped her only son into her arms. She was not ready to reveal her full plans to her son, but she didn't want him to suffer needlessly either. "Let me speak to her directly. I am only loosely familiar with Miss Granger, and I want to know who we are dealing with. You're certain she's not manipulating you?"

Draco snorted at that. "Granger's got a reputation for her brilliance, but she's a dolt when it comes to people. She believes far too much in others and far too little in herself. She was shocked when I actually talked to her while I was angry. Apparently the idiots she calls her best friends regularly ignore her for weeks when they're upset! It's absurd!"

Narcissa smiled gently at her son's indignation on Miss Granger's behalf, recognizing that her son had just revealed quite a lot regarding his own feelings towards the Granger girl. Whether he knew it or not, Draco was well on his way towards falling for the young woman.

"Let me speak with her, Draco," Narcissa said gently.

Draco sighed and relaxed in her embrace. "Okay."

Narcissa nuzzled her head against her son's. She had not expected her son and Miss Granger to become close under the curse, but she would not hesitate to use it to further her son's security and happiness. The fact that her husband would be infuriated at the ironic turn of events was not bad either.

Narcissa smirked. Her next visit to Azkaban would be most entertaining.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe this chapter took me over a month to get together! Ugh, I'm sorry, and thank you for your patience. I hope the wait was worth it.
> 
> It's really hard to clue y'all into my reality without oversharing. Lots of health stuff, kitten adoptions, and local pandemic craziness has happened. As far as I know, my family has still escaped COVID-19, though we managed to catch a stomach bug last week somehow. Go figure, right?
> 
> Oh, and Black Lives Matter. I mean, it's hard to imagine anyone reading a fic about Hermione, Champion of All Underdogs, and not supporting real-world systemic change to help those who have suffered due to systemic bias against them, but yea, racism is very real and still exists today throughout the United States, and Black Lives Matter.
> 
> Wear your masks, do your social distancing when possible, and stay safe, y'all!


	29. Backup

**Chapter 29 - Backup**

Hermione's heart thudded as Malfoy's mother let Malfoy back into the Room of Requirement's rendition of Professor Snape's office. Talking to Narcissa about, well, everything had both clarified and muddied things for Hermione regarding Malfoy. Perhaps Malfoy didn't really mean the cruel things he said, but he still said them, and so…

Hermione took a deep breath and straightened up in her seat. None of that mattered in the moment. She had to get free of this curse.

Malfoy's eyes found hers from across the room, and she could see the relief in them as she held his gaze. "You're still there," he said.

"Where else would she be?" Narcissa quipped in her husband's voice. The polyjuice was still in full effect, transforming Narcissa's appearance into a perfect replica of her husband Lucius, and Hermione dreaded the next step. "Draco, this is for you," Narcissa said, handing him a second bottle of brewed polyjuice.

Malfoy's eyes narrowed at the bottle, darted to the bracelet still on Hermione's wrist, then rose to her eyes once more. Something steeled in him. He took the potion and tossed it back in a single gulp. "That is _disgusting._"

"It's polyjuice potion," Narcissa replied calmly. "Did you expect elderberry wine?"

"No," Malfoy whimpered as his face twisted in anguished disgust and his features shifted and filled out slightly. Narcissa calmly charmed the clothes to expand with Malfoy as he changed. Very soon, Hermione was looking at the appearance of Lucius in Malfoy's school clothes alongside Narcissa's appearance as Lucius in his usual robes. Malfoy straightened up slowly and dusted himself off. "I'm never doing that again," Malfoy complained. He looked to his mother. "Now?" he asked.

Narcissa nodded.

Hermione took a deep breath as Malfoy's eyes turned to her again. Fear flashed in them, and then he approached her with a blank face and knelt down by her chair on the side by her bracelet. He paused and frowned while staring at her bracelet. "We don't have to go back to how we were."

Hermione swallowed. "I know," she said.

Malfoy flinched, and Hermione nearly caved into reassuring him right there. However, she knew things were off between them, and any encouragement might offset the little balance Hermione had mustered together since she left his room. She needed some time away from him. She needed to sort her feelings. She needed to set some boundaries and figure out how to explain all of this to Harry and Ron. Furthermore, she didn't even know what all Malfoy wanted. His actions showed that he cared for her, but to what end?

Malfoy seemed to be going through his own internal battle as well, a dozen expressions flitting across his handsome face while he gazed at the bracelet. Pain pinched his brow. He closed his eyes and took in a slow, deep breath before blowing it out and opening his eyes again. It was strange that, while he looked like his father due to the polyjuice, Hermione had little difficulty seeing Malfoy instead.

Malfoy hesitantly took her hand into his left one, then used his right hand to carefully pull the bracelet down.

It fell to her hand and refused to move further. Hermione's heart dropped in her chest. It didn't work.

Malfoy blinked with surprise and turned to his mother. Narcissa walked over, knelt down beside her son, and put her hands onto the bracelet as well. Together, both under the polyjuice effect to appear as Lucius Malfoy, they tugged on the bracelet. It moved another inch and stopped. Malfoy stared at the bracelet as if stupefied. His mother, however, calmly rose to her feet and brushed herself off. "I suppose I need to pay a visit to Azkaban then," she said.

Malfoy clenched Hermione's hand. "Mother, Father won't…"

"He will," Narcissa interjected firmly. "Miss Granger," she said in a kinder voice. "I do apologize for interrupting your studies in the library. You may return to them now."

It was a dismissal. Even Malfoy understood, as he squeezed her hand gently before stepping back to stand by his mother.

Hermione half-wished she could stay and be part of the conversation. Then again, if they intended to free her anyway, perhaps… "Before I go, may I ask a favor?" she said as she pulled herself up.

Two visions of Lucius looked back at her with polite, curious expressions that Hermione had never seen the real Lucius wear on his face.

"I can't write my notes on parchment," Hermione explained. "The curse won't let me."

"Is that why you had ink all over your arms and legs?" Malfoy asked with an expression she once thought a sneer, but now knew was just his way of expressing disbelief.

"Please," Hermione said, appealing to Narcissa as well. "If you intend to release me with my memories intact, surely you can allow me to write before then so I don't fall behind on my studies."

"Mother?" Malfoy said, his expression carefully blank.

"Draco, you're practically a man, and have endured far more than many grown men. Do you really need my approval to grant Miss Granger the use of parchment for her quill? After all, you already returned the use of her wand without ever consulting me."

Malfoy both blushed and bristled at once. "Do you not intend to hold her to a vow?"

It was a valid question, and one that confused Hermione as well, given that Narcissa had tried to free Hermione without first holding her to a vow and asked her son to do the same.

Narcissa smiled slightly, and as they watched, her appearance as Lucius slowly began to melt back into her own. "Learning to trust is one of the most difficult and powerful lessons in life. Did you require a vow from her before you gave her wand back?"

Malfoy scowled. He opened his mouth, as if to retort, then closed it again. He faced Hermione and held her gaze, searching her eyes for something, though she didn't know what. As he stared, his appearance as Lucius Malfoy began to fade, and he was soon fully himself, his robes once again fitted to his usual size.

He was so very handsome, and Hermione bit her lip against the frustration she felt between wanting to know him better and knowing she needed space from him to think clearly.

Malfoy swallowed. "Hermione Granger, I give you every freedom I may return to you under the curse. You may use your magic however you like, speak with whoever you wish, write on whatever you like, if it's within my power to make it so."

Hermione felt dizzy with shock. Had Malfoy really just given back her ability to communicate without limits or requiring something in exchange? "I don't understand," Hermione said as she found her breath again.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow at her. "You're the brightest witch of the age. Figure it out." He turned to his mother, who looked at him with wide eyes. "Excuse me, Mother, but I need to go. Enjoy talking to Granger as yourself."

Malfoy opened the door and slipped out without another word or glance to either of them, leaving Hermione alone with Narcissa. Narcissa stared at the door, her face a mix of shock and concern.

"Right," Hermione said after a moment of awkward silence. What could she say to Narcissa Malfoy after all that just happened? Thanks for trying? "It was nice speaking to you," Hermione finally said. "I need to get back to my studies though." She couldn't wait to try writing again, and to talk to Ginny without resorting to morse code!

Narcissa took in a deep breath and sighed before turning from the door. Her eyes passed right over where Hermione stood, then scanned the room again quickly before narrowing. Her eyes widened suddenly, as with realization, and she massaged her temple, sighing again. "Of course," she said wryly.

Hermione felt her stomach drop. "You don't know that I'm still here, do you?" she asked Narcissa.

"I expect you're still here," Narcissa said. Her eyes scanned the room. "I can't see you if you are, nor can I hear you if you're speaking. I think we can assume my son's efforts to give you more freedom under the curse failed."

Hermione's heart raced. "But I've not even tested the writing yet…"

"I suppose it's not unexpected," Narcissa continued. "The curse is meant to prevent you from interacting freely with those outside of the Malfoy lineage. I do wonder if Draco would be able to give specific exceptions, however, such as he already has with your wand use, and I imagine other things as well." Narcissa paused with furrowed brow. "I will ask that he allow us to speak and write to each other, Miss Granger. I would value your correspondence, if you don't mind indulging an older witch."

Hermione stared at Narcissa. Their tete-a-tete had gone rather better than Hermione had expected, but not so well that companionship between them was warranted. Narcissa was still Malfoy's mother, and Hermione was still Malfoy's… not-quite-friend. Then again, they were connected through the curse until she was freed. Furthermore, they would need to work together to ensure that Malfoy wasn't harmed from the fallout of the curse.

"I need to leave now, Miss Granger," Narcissa said before Hermione could clear her head. "It was truly a pleasure to learn your mind. I look forward to when we speak again."

Hermione watched Narcissa let herself out of the room, leaving Hermione alone with entirely too many thoughts. If Narcissa couldn't see or hear her, then she was back to using morse code with everyone but Malfoy. Or perhaps, if he could let her speak with specific people, she could ask him to include Ginny and Luna in that list? And Harry?

She would also have to determine if she could write freely.

Hermione went to Professor Snape's desk and glanced around. Immediately, as if summoned, she found parchment, a quill, and an ink pot. She prepared the nib of the quill, dipped it in the ink pot, and brought it to the parchment.

It stopped a finger span from making a mark.

Hermione felt something important deflate inside. She slowly sank back into the chair, and her arms dropped down beside her. Even with Malfoy's blessing, she still couldn't write on her own.

She would need the library books after all.

Seeing Malfoy again so soon had not been her plan, but he had her library books sent to his room, and she needed to test if he could free her to speak to specific persons, even if it required limitations on what was discussed.

She wondered also why he had tried at all… both to free her and then to minimize the curse's restraints on her when the former failed. He had said he wanted to keep her cursed, hadn't he?

Had he?

Did his words even matter when his actions contradicted them?

Hermione ran her fingers through her long, frizzy hair and decided to solve the puzzle of Draco Malfoy… but how? And did it even matter when there were so many more important things going on? Narcissa already intended to free her through Lucius, though Hermione was not sure what that would entail. Somehow, she thought it unlikely that Lucius would let her go that easily. However, once she was free, she would be able to finish school easily and go back to…

Hermione bit her thumb in contemplation. What would she go back to? Not Ron, clearly. George and Ginny were still her friends, however, and she expected that the end of her relationship with Ron would not end her friendship with him… though she certainly didn't want to leap back into it. She had Harry, but Harry was busy between his auror duties and Ginny. Her parents…

She didn't want to think about her parents.

Oddly, it was her loss of appetite that reminded her to check the time. She had never been good at remembering herself when she got caught up in a project, and the day had been a blur of being dragged from one thing to another with multiple naps… She frowned. What day was it, anyway?

Hermione pulled her timepiece out and checked it. Her frown deepened. "May 4th? But the anniversary of the war was May 2nd, which means it's only been…"

It had been only two days since she had been cursed.

Somehow, the room suddenly seemed darker and further away, and Hermione felt like she was spinning, though she remained sitting still. Her heartbeat thumped like a drum with only the crackle of the fire in the fireplace to accompany it.

In two days, she and Malfoy had gone from barely acknowledging each other to… whatever they were now. "Nothing, most likely," Hermione amended. Her eyes felt hot and wet, and the room came back into focus as the first tear burned its way down her cheek, and she gasped with horror at herself for crying over a connection that was only two days old. How was it she kept forgetting how little time had passed? How in the Queen's name had she fallen so deeply so quickly?

"You're smarter than this, Hermione Jean Granger," she chastised herself. "You went years waiting for Ronald Weasley to grow up and take you seriously, and in just two days, you lose your mind over someone who used to bully you and fought against your kind in the war?"

Her arms hurt, and she realized she had dug her nails into them while hugging herself. She pulled them away and studied the little crescent marks she had left for a moment before healing them with a quick spell.

"What am I doing?" Hermione moaned. She had never felt so lost before, and all over a boy who didn't even return her feelings. "I'm pathetic," she whispered.

More tears fell, and she stared at the fire without really seeing it. Distantly, she realized that her stomach was complaining, and she checked the time again. It was nearly dinnertime, and she hadn't eaten since breakfast. She had missed lunch.

Briefly, Hermione considered skipping dinner as well, but she needed to think clearly, which meant she also needed to eat. Nevermind that she already felt nauseous, she could not neglect her body and expect to sort her thoughts in any rational manner. Her emotional state was already likely evidence of her poor self-care.

Standing up from her chair took all the focus and determination she typically required when training, and she felt sluggish as she reached the door and opened it.

Had she more energy, she might have tried levitating herself to the Great Hall instead of walking. Of course, if she had more energy, she wouldn't mind walking either. "Why haven't I tried levitating myself before?" Hermione pondered out loud as she made her way downstairs. Of course, it was a trick to levitate the clothes holding the person, and they might require strengthening spells not to rip...

Thankfully, the magical staircases were quite cooperative.

The Great Hall was full with students for dinner by the time she got there. She froze as she entered, recalling Malfoy's earlier request that she join him for dinner. Of course, that was before the Room of Requirement and the failed attempt to free her. Would he still want her company now?

Would he still want her company after the curse?

Feeling rather disoriented for all the thoughts racing through her, Hermione made her way towards the Slytherin table, not even thinking to check whether Malfoy was even there until she found his usual seat empty. She sat beside his seat anyway, recognizing that she might not find the courage to return if she left the table now, and she needed answers to her questions.

He had expected her to be obliviated before she was freed, but what now? Would they be friends? Well, perhaps not right away. They had only got along two days now, after all. Well, technically, two and a half, as it was now evening, and she had been cursed in the morning. However, if you considered that they had not gotten along that first day, then…

"Granger?" Malfoy said, interrupting the tangent of her thoughts. He stood close enough behind her that she could feel his warmth, and he placed a hand on her shoulder to balance himself as he slid into his seat at her side. Heat exploded from his touch and lingered even after he removed his hand and focused on serving himself. "Enjoy your talk with my mother?" he asked her. His tone was casual, but his eyes were carefully watching her reaction.

Hermione frowned, wondering what he was looking for. "She was very considerate," Hermione hedged and bit her lip. She knew she needed to tell Malfoy about the curse still being fully in place, but she didn't quite want to bring it up either. It felt too much like shoving his efforts in his face.

Malfoy watched her another moment and then dug into his food. "I'm surprised you chose to sit here, given that you can talk to your friends again."

Hermione flinched. 'I can't," she said. She cringed at her own bluntness, but it was out now, and he was staring at her carefully again. "It didn't work. I'm sorry," she explained, but as the words left her mouth, she realized something: Malfoy wasn't surprised. He only nodded as if she had confirmed a theory for him.

"You knew," she said, only mildly annoyed that he had feigned ignorance.

Malfoy shrugged. "I suspected. I realized after I left that it had been quiet this time."

Hermione stared at him, confused. Her perplexion must have shown, because a moment later, Malfoy scooted closer and reached across her lap to stroke the bracelet, causing it to jingle. His hand grazed up her forearm lightly as he removed it, and even through the thick robe, Hermione felt her skin tingle.

"It had responded the other times I changed something," Malfoy explained in a low, husky voice.

Hermione shivered. He was still closer to her than he had initially been when he sat down. She wondered at that, but perhaps he simply hadn't thought to move back yet. He was right about the bracelet, though. She remembered the gentle music it had made when Malfoy had returned her wand and allowed her to strike him under the curse. She tried to remember what happened today, but her mind had been so caught up in the shock of Malfoy's declaration that she couldn't recall the other details.

"Have you tried writing yet?" Malfoy asked her, still in that quiet tone.

Hermione looked down sadly and nodded. "Couldn't touch the parchment with the quill. Your mother realized what happened. She thinks you may be able to give me permission to write or speak with someone specific for a purpose." Hermione left out that Narcissa wanted to stay in touch. She didn't quite feel up to facing his reaction to that.

"Chin up, Granger. We'll figure something out," Malfoy said. "The library books are in my room, and we can test my mother's theory there. Let's go after dinner."

His room? Hermione swallowed hard as she tensed at the idea of spending more time alone with Malfoy when her thoughts were in such disarray. Of course, there wasn't really a better option to avoid others from discovering the truth of his limited control over her curse.

Her consternation must have shown, because a moment later, she felt Malfoy's hand gently squeeze her knee under the table before retreating. "Relax, Granger. We may well be the two brightest minds of our year. I'm sure we'll sort you out."

Hermione stared at him. The shoulder pat when he had sat down was not so very strange, nor was his grazing her wrist when pointing out her bracelet, but squeezing her knee to comfort her? After their talk in the Room of Requirement, she thought that… She thought that… Well, she really wasn't quite sure, but she had expected him to be more distant afterwards.

"I'm afraid I'll regret asking, but why are you looking at me like that?" Malfoy asked in between bites of food. He glanced down, noticed her empty plate, and scowled before dumping a variety of random food on it. "Eat," he ordered.

Hermione blushed. She had been so focused on speaking with Malfoy that she forgot all about dinner itself. She made a point to spear some brisket on her fork and bring it to her mouth, thankful for the excuse not to answer Malfoy's question on her thoughts. Beside her, Malfoy ate silently and efficiently, as if the meal were something to check off his list rather than to enjoy.

Her thoughts wandered again as she realized that no one had interrupted them this time, and her eyes scanned the room. Ginny was deeply involved in a conversation with her fellow 7th years at the Gryffindor table. Hermione found Luna at the Ravenclaw table studying quietly in between sips of soup. The only person who seemed to notice them was Theodore Nott, who gave Malfoy a long, curious look from further down the table, but the other Slytherins were clearly minding their own business. Perhaps the novelty of Malfoy eating with an invisible Hermione Granger had worn off.

"Eat, you ninny. Don't think I won't force feed you if I have to," Malfoy threatened.

A few days ago, Hermione would have sarcastically retorted that it almost sounded like he cared about her, but now… She took another bite, chewed and swallowed, and cleared her throat. "I really appreciate how much you're doing for me, Malfoy."

Blush colored Malfoy's pale cheeks, and he scowled. "Just eat, Granger."

Hermione bit her lip against a smile and continued with her meal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No promises yet, but I'm aiming for a return to the every other week Friday posting schedule.


End file.
